Mass Effect: Extermination
by Nouvel Oblique
Summary: HIATUS: This story will return when I have more time or I take a vacation. The next cycle of galactic extermination is about to begin. Commander Shepard has her own demons, but as darkness begins to fall across the galaxy, she'll have to get the job done or die trying. [Mass Effect 1]
1. The Call

_Earthlight illuminated the pressurized observation deck of the Alliance space station. The room stank of coffee, sweat, and frustration. Ambassador Udina ran a hand along the silver stubble on his chin. Captain Anderson drained the dregs of his coffee and lowered the metal mug to the conference table. His dark eyes ran around the room and came to rest on Admiral Hackett. The old admiral had his arms crossed and his fingers tapped on his forearm in irritation.  
_

_"We have to make a decision, gentlemen," Captain Anderson murmured, "The Prime Minister expects our recommendation within the day."_

_"I understand that perfectly, Anderson!" Udina growled.  
_

_Udina's beady eyes drifted across the assembled officers. He shuffled the secure data-pads on the table in front of him. They had already eliminated the majority of the potential recruits, screened for their military prowess, intelligence, experience, professionalism, and psychological profile. Udina's fingers stopped and he stared for a moment. He let out a sour sigh. "I can't believe I'm saying this but… What about Shepard?"_

_The room went still as hard vacuum. Captain Anderson could barely breath. The fundamental constants of the universe were in danger. Udina's face was pinched and his eyes narrowed to slits as he tapped the data-pad and examined the screen._

_"Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard, Alliance Marine Corps," Udina cleared his throat. "We know who she is, and her...troubled history. Earthborn, but no record of her family or education."_

_"She doesn't have one," Captain Anderson replied quickly. "She was raised on the streets, learned to look out for herself. Enlisted to escape the gangs and never looked back. She's a damn fine marine, a thorough tactician, and an impressive special forces operator. Shepard's spent years crawling through every nook and cranny of the the Verge. She's been ___Force Recon, Corsairs, and Interplanetary Combatives._"_

_"She's one of the best of the best," Admiral Hackett said. "We all know what's she done for the Alliance."_

_"Exactly!" Udina slapped the table, "It's not about her skills. Anderson, I know you don't want to hear this, but we have to look at the units she's lead in the field. Look at the casualty rate, and her own reports! Incomplete at best, insubordinate at worst"_

__Anderson scowled. "We've been over this during when we vetted her, Udina. ____She's never lost a soldier for anything less than mission critical action. You've met the woman, Udina. ___Her reports mean nothing, Udina. It's her actions that count."_

__Udina frowned. "I have met her, Anderson, much to my displeasure. ___The question is… Can we truly trust a woman like…her?"_

__Anderson nodded, "She's an Alliance Marine with more commendations than anyone alive, and you pinned a few on her chest yourself."__

_"As did I. She proved herself during the Blitz," Admiral Hackett said. "Held off enemy forces on the ground until reinforcements arrived."_

_Anderson nodded sharply. "She's the only reason Elysium is still standing."_

_"We can't question her courage, Anderson," Udina retorted, "It's her character I'm concerned about. Spectres represent the best of their species. They are not just soldiers, they are symbols."_

_"__We made her a symbol when we gave her the Star of Terra," Admiral Hackett said, " We promoted her—she's the youngest commander in Alliance history. We can't lose faith in her now."_

_"She's a fine soldier, Admiral," Udina said, "But humanity needs an ambassador, not a sledgehammer."  
_

_"Humanity needs a hero, Udina," Anderson said, "And Shepard's the best we've got."_

_"I know who she really is, Anderson! And she's not a hero."_

_Captain Anderson stared at Udina. "There's no one else, Udina. The conventional candidates don't cut it. We need someone with experience. Someone who won't flinch. Someone who can stand with the very best in the galaxy. ____She has the profile required for the job. __You know it, and I know it, that's why you suggested her in the first place."_

_"But..." Udina's lip curled, "Shepard?"  
_

_"She's the best," Anderson said. "She's the one."  
_

_There was a deadly pause. Udina's eyes glittered. "Very well. I'll make the call."_

* * *

**Earth, Sol System, Local Cluster**

**2181.11.08**

The blue planet shone in the light of the sun. Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard, Systems Alliance Marine Corps, was illuminated by the azure glow of her home planet. The Earth rotated into view on the other side of the cold crystal observation window. Her armor hummed softly as she crossed her arms across her chest, the actuators whirring as they pulled the black ceramic plates into position.

Shepard's pale face floated above her dark armor. After years in space the color had been leached from her skin leaving only a residue of brown freckles, a legacy of the mother that Shepard had never known. Her wide cheekbones and forehead were carved with small white scars; the most distinctive running from her right eyebrow to her temple. The combination of her broad cheekbones and sharp jaw gave Shepard a haughty face that was accentuated by almond eyes perched on either side of an angular nose. Lightning boomed inside a storm on the planet below and a flash was reflected inside the shadowed pits of Shepard's eyes. For a single second her eyes glowed with green light.

Shepard's omni-tool pinged, informing her that her shuttle was leaving for Vancouver. She was due at Alliance Naval Headquarters at 1900 hours.

Her metallic hair, dyed red, swayed as she shook her head and deactivated her omni-tool. A spike of anger caused her jaw to tighten and the thick muscles in Shepard's neck tautened. She was angry at Anderson for pulling her out of the Verge. Now, she longed for the comforting weight of a rifle in her hands and the boom and crackle of a mass accelerator round hissing through the air. She raised a gloved hand to the crystal plate of the viewport and traced a finger along the arc of the planet below. Her arm shook slightly; on her last mission in the Verge she had operated her M-97 Volkov 'Viper' sniper rifle in her skin-suit and the recoil had bruised her to the bone. Still, it had been fun.

Shepard frowned at the shining planet below. It had been over a decade since she had set foot on Planet Earth. She was angry at Anderson for pulling the plug on her mission, but, more than that, she was angry at the sour sting of fear that churned in her stomach at the sight of the Earth. _It's just a pretty blue planet. It's not going to bite_. _Get a move on, Marine._

Commander Shepard opened her eyes. She didn't know why she been called to Earth in the middle of a mission, and she hoped Anderson had a damn good reason. Part of her knew that, logically, he had an important reason. He knew what she did. But the sight of the Earth dredged up old memories she preferred buried. Shepard did her best to shed the mass of fear and sin.

She always tried to roll with the punches. Take things as they come. Don't worry about it, the universe was a far bigger place than she could ever see, full of more information than she could ever know. She wasn't aimless, she always had a mission. But it was guaranteed that the universe would throw a wrench in the works. Simple math. So she rolled with the punches, she took what she needed, compartmentalized what she didn't need. Shepard couldn't let the sheer enormity of it all slow her down. It could crush her into dust if she didn't keep going, bobbing and weaving.

She just needed to wait until she could punch back. Just the right moment. Because Jane had a job to do, and Commander Jane Shepard always got the job done.

* * *

When Shepard arrived on Earth a UT-47 Kodiak was waiting on the landing pad at the spaceport. The hatch was open and pouring rain sluiced down the sides of the shuttle. Captain David Anderson balanced on the lip of the hatch, one large hand on the handle.

Shepard, black-and-red duffel slung over her shoulder, strode out from under the glass panels that protected her from the torrential rain. She activated her kinetic barriers and the rain hissed and popped on her shields, pouring off her armored shoulders in miniature waterfalls. Bareheaded Shepard sauntered to the shuttle.

"It's good to see you again, Janey!" Captain Anderson yelled over the rain.

_Only Captain Anderson can get away with calling me Janey. _Shepard had never liked the name the hospital had saddled her with. Thankfully her marines and fellow officers never used her first name, of course, just the little voice inside her head that sounds remarkably like Captain Anderson.

Shepard took Anderson's hand and he pulled her aboard with a grunt. "Christ, you're still in armor," Anderson growled, "I forget how heavy that makes you. When you were younger…"

"Its good to see you too, Captain Anderson," Shepard smiled. "I didn't even have time to change, I've never seen a transit schedule like mine."

She had a rough, almost husky, voice stamped with the unyielding ring of command. Anderson subsided, giving her a once-over with his grave, heavy-lidded eyes. The old soldier sighed and gestured pointedly at the empty interior of the Kodiak. "Come on, strap in and let's get moving."

The airlock hissed closed and Captain Anderson hammered his fist three times on the hatch to the cockpit. In response the Kodiak began to hum, the element zero core decreasing their relative mass for take-off. Shepard stowed her duffel and strapped in on the port side; Captain Anderson secured himself in the crash harness opposite her. He wore Service Dress Uniform: a full jacket and trousers of black and blue panels divided by geometric lines of solid gold. Shepard eyed her former commander with a lopsided smile. _It's good to see him again_, she reminded herself, trying to suppress the frustration she felt at returning groundside in the middle of a deployment. She had spent the past six months aboard the SSV Taejon, moving from system to system tracking and eliminating the members of a terrorist cell responsible for a series of raids on human colonies. She had been closing in on the leader, Balak, but by the time she returned she was sure that the trail would be cold. Shepard grimaced.

The Kodiak lifted off smoothly, bobbed in the air currents for a moment, then the thrusters spun it around and blasted them towards Naval Headquarters. Anderson rubbed his shaved head, and the lines around his eyes crinkled as he smiled, "You're wondering what you're doing here."

"You pulled me off the Taejon on the middle of a combat tour, Captain."

"I did, and for that I'm sorry, I know that's where you want to be," Anderson said, leaning forward as far as the thick, black yoke around his neck would allow, "But this is important, Janey. Far more important than hunting down pirates in the Verge."

Shepard stilled. There was a note of both anticipation and regret in Anderson's voice and she didn't like it. "What have you gotten me into, Captain?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you," Anderson murmured. "Do you trust me, Shepard?"

Jane Shepard considered the question for a single second. She knew she shouldn't have had to think about it at all. David Anderson had saved her life—not just in battle, but from the gutter. _Damn it. _"I trust you."

"Keep that in mind when you hear what I have to say," Anderson cautioned, "You're being promoted," Anderson said bluntly.

Shepard scowled and her stomach churned, "Damn, Staff Commander? Captain, please, don't do this. You know what—"

"Janey, enough!" Anderson barked, "I said trust me! I'm putting you on my personal staff. I'm going to give you your own special command."

A fiery blush had formed on Shepard's inclined cheekbones. Her nostrils fluttered as she fought to think through what the Captain had just said. She scraped a hand across her forehead, running her fingers across the raised scar. "My own team?"

"Yes, Commander. I want you to put together an Interplanetary Combatives Team."

Anderson's whiskey-smooth voice stirred painful memories in Shepard, and she slapped her hands on her armored knees to drown them out. "Alright, for you, Captain. " Shepard said roughly, "You're back in the game then?"

"Not yet," Anderson murmured, "But this is going to be big, Shepard. This is the next step for all humanity."

"All humanity?" Shepard smirked. "Captain, I don't care about all humanity. I just worry about my Marines."

Anderson scowled, "I taught you better than that."

Shepard's neck muscles tensed. She fought with herself for a moment and then let out a breath and raised a hand, "You're right. I'm sorry."

Anderson nodded fractionally. "Good. This is about more than you or I, Janey. This is important."

The UT-47 began to descend and then landed with a barely detectable quiver. Captain Anderson and Commander Shepard stood up and made their way to the hatch. The rain continued to fall outside. Bright lights illuminated the armored entrance to NHQ. A glass arcade provided cover from the incessant downpour. "I'll fill you in on the way," Captain Anderson said as he ushered Shepard out the hatch. "We'll drop your kit in my office and get you out of your armor. Fleet Admiral Hackett wants to pin your oak leaves on himself, Shepard, and Ambassador Udina is not a man who likes to be kept waiting. There's also a Council Representative waiting to interview you, so stay sharp, Shepard."

Shepard made a noise of disgust. "Politics, Captain? Udina hates my guts. Feelings mutual, of course."

"You broke his nose with a camera drone," Anderson said dryly, "And you broke the camera drone, too!"

"That's in the official record," Shepard muttered, "Politics!"

"Look, everything is politics, Shepard, you know that better than anyone." Captain Anderson sighed. "Sometimes, I can get the politicians to work for us."

Shepard sighed. Her lips twisted at the thought of encountering Ambassador Donnel Udina again. The controlling bureaucrat had been responsible for managing her goodwill tour after the Blitz. He had treated her like a trained varren, trotting her out in front of the politicians, the cameras, and the military brass. Within a week Shepard had wanted to shove her Star of Terra down his throat. Thankfully, Naval Headquarters had pulled the plug before Shepard had killed someone important. She had never thanked Captain Anderson for that particular kindness.

"I have the feeling this is going to be _fun_," Shepard said through gritted teeth. "Sir."

"This is going to be worth it, Shepard! Trust me," Captain Anderson laughed richly. "Welcome to the Normandy Project, Commander."

**A/N** _Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy this interpretation of Commander Shepard and the great story we know and love. The plot will move slowly at first and picks up speed during the Hunt for Saren. Be warned, there will be adult language, violence, and sexual content. The events in this story will diverge from the events in the game. I hope you enjoy. [Updated 29-May-2016]_


	2. The Normandy

**Alcyoneus Base, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream **

**2183.01.01**

_One Year Later_

The blast shield rose slowly. A line of light white light flashed across the cockpit as the floodlights shone through the crystal canopy. Jane Shepard blinked to clear the dancing spots of light from her eyes. The blast shield retracted completely with an echoing thud. The SSV Normandy was ready for launch.

Shepard had joined Captain Anderson, Lieutenant Moreau, and Nihlus Kryik on the bridge for the maiden voyage of the SSV Normandy. Through the narrow observation windows of the Normandy, the darkest night of deep space lay just outside the launch bay inside the asteroid Alcyoneus. The interior of the asteroid had been hollowed out and converted into a classified construction bay. Sealed off from the rest of the galaxy, the Normandy prototype had been built in absolute secrecy hidden in the outer reaches of the Arcturus system.

Prior to the launch, Captain Anderson had introduced her to the brass responsible for the project, led by Fleet Admiral Hackett and two turian generals, Victus and Corinthus. In addition there were a few civilian dignitaries like the head of the Alliance Parliamentary Subcommittee on Special Operations and Dr. Dannah Feinglass from the Advanced Research and Development Agency, the lead researcher and designer on the Normandy Project. Shepard had smiled and shaken hands and tried not to puke on anyone. Shepard glanced out the starboard porthole towards the observation deck cut into the inner wall of the asteroid and tugged irritably at the collar of her dress uniform. The brass were waiting.

"Would you like at that," Captain Anderson smiled, "Ready, Joker?"

Captain Anderson had recruited Joker specifically for this project—he was the only pilot Anderson trusted to handle the Normandy's complex drive dynamics. Joker tapped at the holographic consoles with darting fingers, "That is hard vacuum, Captain, I hope the engineers built my baby right or this is going to be the shortest cruise ever!"

"Don't you worry, Joker," Captain Anderson replied. "They built her _just_ right."

Shepard joined Anderson behind the pilot's chair. "Well, if something goes wrong, we'll probably die before you notice, Joker.."

"Thanks a lot, Commander!" Joker snorted.

"We have nothing to worry about," Captain Anderson chuckled.

"Of course," Shepard said quietly. "Congratulations, Captain."

She forced herself to smile at Anderson. She was restless. The Normandy Project had been running for just over a year: design, holographic replication, fabrication of parts, and training the specialized crew. Shepard was a Marine, but the top secret nature of the Normandy Project meant she and her team had been restricted to base for the final phase of construction. At least before then they had been able to run Hostile Environment Assault Training on Eirene and Eunomia. But for the past few months she had been trapped at a console learning the specialized systems and engineering specifications of the new ship.

The Normandy was an impressive space vehicle, a revolutionary advancement in stealth technology and Shepard yearned to take her out for a test drive. With the Normandy she could take a recon team deep into enemy space undetected and land on a hostile world without interception. The possibilities in her line of work were limitless, now that it was finally finished.

"Congratulations indeed, Captain Anderson. You have a ship any captain in the Citadel Fleet would be proud of," Nihlus Kryik purred from where he lurked near the entrance to the cockpit.

"Thank you, Spectre Nihlus," Anderson said without looking away from the array of holographic displays, "I'm grateful for the Council's support."

"Indeed," Nihlus' mandibles flickered.

Nihlus stalked forward to join them and Shepard shifted unconsciously to stay out of his reach. The Spectre's mandibles flickered in a turian micro-expression that Shepard's eyes could barely detect. Nihlus' hide was the colour of drying blood and his faceplates and mandibles were adorned with curving blades of white paint. His taloned hands, sheathed in black gloves, were folded across his angular chest. Nihlus' intelligent eyes darted towards her and then away again. Shepard ground her teeth.

Nihlus Kryik, the fist of the Council. _In this case, their accountant,_ Shepard thought with a small smirk, _here to make sure the Council's credits were well spent._ She had first met Nihlus at Naval Headquarters over a year ago. Nihlus was a ghost that had haunted the Normandy Project for months. Intellectually, Shepard knew that Kryik's support had been instrumental in getting approval for the Normandy Project from the Council. Still, Nihlus had become an irritating thorn in her side. He was always poking and prodding.

"Let's get this started," Anderson smiled gruffly and tapped his earpiece. "How is everything, Adams?"

Chief Engineer Adams gravelly voice came back to him over the omni-tool. "Everything is green, Captain. The Tantalus Drive is ready for a dry run."

"Very good. How about you, ready, Joker?"

"My baby was born ready, Captain!" Joker answered immediately, "I've been tuning this flight computer to compensate for the oversized drive core for four months. This is going to be beautiful."

"Alright, that's enough," Anderson chuckled.

"Aye-aye, sir," Shepard tried not to laugh as Joker made a face and muttered imprecations under his breath.

"Let's get this show over with," Anderson said, gesturing towards the port bulkhead of the launch bay where Shepard could see the transparent window of the observation deck where the brass continued to watch the launch from the asteroid while Shepard and Captain Anderson ran things from the command deck of the Normandy.

"Turians don't believe that a ship is truly finished construction until it has been tested in battle," Nihlus' mandibles widened and then closed, "This ceremony seems pointless."

"Not to us, Nihlus," Anderson murmured. "Not to us." Anderson smiled at Shepard, "You ready for some speeches?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she smiled.

Captain Anderson activated the all-hands signal and turned the communicator to all channels. His deep voice rang throughout the ship and the asteroid. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Anderson of the SSV Normandy. Thank you for joining us here at Alconyeus Base for the launch of the Normandy SR-1. The Normandy is not just a next generation space vessel. The Normandy represents the next step in galactic peacekeeping. The Systems Alliance and our allies are now better prepared to warn, defend, and protect Council Space from any adversary. I am proud to be the captain of the Systems Alliance Space Vehicle Normandy. May God watch over all those who serve on her. Thank you."

Applause echoed over the open channels as Anderson cleared his throat and switched to shipwide, "I promise I'll have champagne waiting for everyone when we're groundside. But for now we have work to do people. All hands prepare for spaceflight."

Applause continued to ring through the speakers from the observation deck and Joker chuckled. "Listen to them, you'd think they'd done something to help."

"That's enough, Joker," Anderson said, tempered with a smile, "This was a big project and everyone played their part. Now, it's time for us to show them we're worth it."

"Aye-aye, Captain," Joker said, tossing a jaunty salute.

Nihlus mandibles clicked and he inclined his face towards Shepard and hissed, "Pride appears to transcend the species barrier, doesn't it, Commander?"

Shepard rotated one shoulder and whispered, "Pride is fine, Nihlus. Captain Anderson should be proud of the Normandy."

"As should you, Shepard."

"I am," Shepard said shortly.

"Are you?" Nihlus' recessed green eyes gleamed. "You seem…tense…Shepard. You don't like the compromise of politics. You like more…direct…methods."

"I'm absolutely fine with compromise, it's hypocrisy I don't like," Shepard retorted, "What do you want, Spectre?"

"Nothing," Nihlus's sinuous neck twisted as he withdrew. "Just curious."

Shepard didn't know what the Spectre wanted from her. Shepard had always been clear that she hated liars; more than that, she hated people that hid their true desires and opinions behind false smiles and deceptions. Captain Anderson was the only man she trusted to tell her the truth, and like the Captain she preferred speaking her mind directly. She wasn't ignorant enough to say something before thinking it through, but when she did speak she was direct. That habit had gotten her into trouble over the years. Shepard decided to ignore the Spectre's inquisitive gaze. If he wasn't willing to answer her questions plainly, then she wasn't about to answer his. She just had to put up with him—on Anderson's orders.

"Spin up the drive and light the thrusters, Joker," Anderson said. "Let's go."

Joker whooped and his hands flew across the controls. The thrusters mounted on either side of the sleek frigate pulsed, blue-white fire flickering inside the matte black electromagnetic containment nozzles. Mechanical systems activated and the engines gracefully unfolded from the main body of the ship. "Come on," Shepard grinned, "Show us what you can do, Joker."

"Aye-aye, Commander!" Joker said.

The piloting controls glowed brighter as he slowly pushed forward with both hands. The Normandy floated out of its launch cradle, prow pointed towards open space. The starship slid past the observation window, revealing meter after gleaming meter of white ablative armor and illuminated panels to the politicians on the observation deck.

The Normandy floated away from Alconyeus, free for the first time of docking and rigs. Joker reoriented the ship with a few deft swipes of his fingers on the controls and the thrusters shifted and pulsed until their speed and velocity matched the asteroid. "Everything's perfect, Captain!" Joker grinned, "Come on, let's redline the engines."

"Take us around Arcturus, Joker," Anderson ordered with a laugh, "Let's test the drive and then we'll light up the Internal Emissions Sink."

Shepard smirked and seized the back of Joker's chair not a moment too soon. "Woohoo!" Joker yelled, and opened up the throttle.

The SSV Normandy SR-1 blasted towards Arcturus at maximum effective velocity.

* * *

The communications room aboard the SSV Normandy was silent and dark. Nihlus had dismissed the cryptographers and communication technicians manning the consoles that lined the perimeter of the insulated room, leaving only empty chairs. His report was only for the ears of the Citadel Council, the single most powerful organization in the galaxy. The shimmering holograms of the three councilors appeared above the projector and Nihlus saluted in the turian fashion, baring his throat and raising his taloned hand. "The test flight was successful, Councilors. The Normandy Project is complete." Nihlus Kryik said, "Commander Shepard is ready for my final assessment."

Tevos, the Asari Councillor, inclined her head. "Thank you, Spectre Kryik. We understand that the project has been successful, and that Commander Shepard's performance has been exemplary."

Councillor Sparatus snorted, his mandibles flashing contempt, "For a human."

"Of course, the real question remains," Councillor Valern said smoothly, blinking his enormous eyes, "Can we trust her, Kryik? Her first loyalty must lie with the collective will of the Council, and not with humanity. She must represent her species as a servant of all of the Council Races."

Nihlus' mandibles flickered. Nihlus had his doubts that it was that simple. It was true that Nihlus had been born on a mercenary outpost outside of the Hierarchy and his first loyalty was to the Council. But he knew that many turian, salarian, and asari agents maintained contacts with their respective intelligence services, all under the guise of intergalactic cooperation. Entirely professional, of course. Nihlus disliked the thought that Shepard's similar loyalty to her own government would be an impediment to her selection. "Commander Shepard was born in the slums of Earth and has no affection for her home planet and no identifiable biases against alien species," Nihlus said carefully. "Shepard is a professional soldier. In my opinion, if she agreed to work for the Council, she would serve to the best of her ability."

"I don't trust her, and neither does Saren Arterius," Sparatus sneered, "We need soldiers of his caliber, Kryik, but you make her sound like a mercenary."

Nihlus frowned. Saren Arterius was his colleague and mentor, and one of the most respected Spectres. But he was wrong in this case, blinded by his prejudice towards the entire human species. "Saren hasn't had the opportunity to observe the Commander, sir," Nihlus said, "I have observed the Commander intermittently for over a year and we've worked closely together for the past six months during the final phase of the Normandy Project. Shepard is a professional, but she's not a mercenary. Shepard isn't interested in financial gain, in fact, she has no vices and no attachments, except to her commanding officer."

"That sounds useful to us, Councilors," Valern murmured, putting a long finger on his chin.

"We'll see," Sparatus sneered. "I'm not convinced."

"I've also had the opportunity to observe her interaction with politicians and civilians, sir," Nihlus said, "Shepard is intelligent and observant. She understands her limits and avoids unnecessary confrontation. For now, my recommendation stands."

Tevos smiled. "Thank you for your report, Spectre Kryik. Please, continue to observe Commander Shepard while we continue our deliberations."

The holograms winked out and Nihlus was left in darkness. His mandibles shuttered close to his jaw and flickered rapidly as he thought. Understandably, Councilor Tevos was convinced. The asari believed that the Systems Alliance was easily susceptible to asari influence and a useful counterweight to the military power of the turians. The salarians were concerned that humanity was an economic and scientific threat, ambitious and innovative, but they were always willing to keep their rivals close and under observation. Sparatus, on the other hand, represented the intransigent attitude of the Hierarchy. In the end, Nihlus suspected that Sparatus would be outmaneuvered and outvoted.

As one of the Council's most decorated agents, Nihlus Kryik had worked hard to ensure that the Council's power remained intact. Nihlus believed that the Council was necessary for galactic peace and stability. But to that end, Nihlus believed that humanity needed a place in the galaxy.

Nihlus flickered his mandibles thoughtfully. Yes, he believed that the humans would be fundamental to maintaining galactic peace in the coming decades. The Council was under threat from the hundreds of pirate fleets, extremist organizations, and ruthless corporations that infested the fringes of civilized space. The Systems Alliance represented a bulwark of stability in a dangerous sector of the galaxy. But if humanity was alienated and oppressed by the Citadel Council, the Alliance would become the greatest threat to the Council since the Krogan Rebellions. For now, that was a distant possibility, and Nihlus was determined to keep it that way

Commander Shepard was the best chance for humanity to take a place at the table. Nihlus Kryik had worked closely with Ambassador Udina and the Selection Committee to develop the criteria necessary for a successful candidate. While he had played no part in the actual selection, a task that belonged solely to the Systems Alliance, he had approved wholeheartedly of their choice. The shadowy world of special operations forces had a surprisingly small community of movers and shakers, and the different intelligence agencies and special forces kept close tabs on their supposed allies. Among the Council Races, Shepard had a reputation. She had served with distinction during several tours of duty in the Skyllian Verge and the Attican Traverse before gaining notoriety during Blitz. Then, of course, she had disappeared—rewarded for her bravery with a slot in special operations. Nihlus had a great deal of respect for the Alliance N7 Program, although he knew that many of his colleagues viewed the upstart humans with disdain. They were wrong. While the Alliance lacked the talent of the asari, the intelligence of the salarians, or the professionalism of the turians, they more than made up for their deficits with a combination of dedication, ingenuity, and practicality. Unlike the Council Races, the humans were fighting a constant low-level war with the batarians and the Terminus Systems—and the humans were learning. Shepard was learning. She had impressed him with her dedication and discipline, as well as her ability to train and lead her men. The next step was for him to observe her during an active operation.

Nihlus rolled his shoulders and turned towards the hatch. Shepard was a professional soldier, and, he suspected, more than that, a warrior. Nihlus was curious, however. Why did she fight? What drove her to push herself, faster, farther? What was her purpose? For now, Shepard was a conundrum. Nihlus looked forward to knowing her better. Shepard didn't know it yet, Nihlus smiled, but this is the start of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

**Deep Space, Hoc System, Sentry Omega**

**2183.07.08**

The asteroid was shattered and broken. Spinning shards of ice expanded in a cloud of silent shrapnel, trailing clouds of water vapor. The ice glittered like dying stars in the shocking light of the mass accelerator cannon that struck the asteroid again, a white vortex lined churning with flecks of red and blue and black, then gone. The asteroid convulsed, releasing gouts liquefied iron and nickel that froze in the depths of space into alien whorls. Four massive claws closed around the iron heart of the asteroid, shredding the cloud of icy debris. Fifty kilometers wide, the asteroid was dwarfed by the articulated arms of the colossal ship. The arms were sheathed in iridescent black armor stained with crimson light that leaked from the fiery maw sliding at the juncture of the four claws. Rotating mass effect fields began to glow with red light as they pulverized thousands of tons of nickel and iron and suctioned the ore into the belly of the beast.

Sovereign was hungry.

Inside the massive vessel, there was only the sound of whispers. The churning of a distant sea, the sound of drowning souls lost in utter darkness. Benezia T'Soni was trapped inside the beating heart of the leviathan, a bacterium floating inside the black blood of a cybernetic body. She was trapped aboard a Reaper, the vanguard of a race of ancient machines dedicated to the cyclical destruction of all advanced civilization in the galaxy.

The Matriarch could hear the whisper of the Reaper in her sleep, now. She had to fight to maintain concentration. And, despite twenty years of study and experimentation, she still had only the slightest idea of how the machine functioned. All she knew for sure was that the Reaper was dedicated to the extermination of all organic life—and soon. She couldn't stop it, not until the last moment, the right moment, when she had all the pieces she needed. Saren had powerful sponsors that shared his desire to control and direct the Reapers, and Benezia still didn't know the identities of all of Saren's allies and spies. Saren needed to trust her, he needed to reveal his innermost plans. Until it was time, Benezia was his right hand, providing him with economic and political support in his war against the Shadow Broker, Cerberus, and the Systems Alliance. And that meant that Benezia had to sacrifice the planet of Eden Prime.

Her elaborate robes hissed along the blue-black deck, the color of dried asari blood, the surface glimmering with some hidden illumination. The undulating bands of darkness that threatened nausea and confusion if she stared into their depths. Benezia refused to stay aboard the unholy vessel, preferring the solitude and psychological security of her own cruiser, docked inside the Reaper. Saren Arterius, however, slept on the command deck. The Matriarch glided towards the ship's command deck, but that was only an illusion pandering to their fragile sanity—Sovereign could not be controlled.

On either side, circular orifices in the ribbed bulkheads contained the forms of quiescent geth, supplicants before an alien god, their hooded eyes flickering like broken lights. Tens of thousands of the synthetics had been corrupted by the Reaper and turned on their own kind, transformed into a terrible army. The quarian creation was a perfect tool, easily integrated into Sovereign's systems and hidden from the rest of the galaxy. Now, Benezia's research into the rachni was more important than ever. The rachni hive mind was a critical balance to the threat imposed by the collective units of the geth. In the coming war, Benezia suspected that the rachni might be her only success.

The hatch to the command deck slid open at her approach and Benezia scanned the shadowed interior. Saren's cybernetic eyes had adjusted to the shadows, but Benezia needed a moment to identify his hunched form, bent over one arm of his solitary throne. A hoarse cough burst out of his twisted body. He was awake. "Enter, Benezia."

"Of course, Arterius," Benezia said quietly, stepping across the threshold.

The hatch slid closed beneath and sealed with a hiss. Benezia folded her hands behind her back and glided around the dark chamber until she stood at Saren's right hand. The turian raised his head and Benezia felt a flash of pity for the haunted creature. Twenty years ago, Saren had peered into a shadowed corner of the galaxy seeking a weapon of mass destruction. Benezia had followed, unwinding the thread of rumors and lies that had led her into an ancient conspiracy to control the galaxy. Today, they were pawns in a game far older and more deadly than they could have ever imagined. For now, Sovereign needed Saren Arterius to uncover the Prothean Conduit and open the gates for the Reaper invasion. Saren was determined to mitigate the coming disaster and save a fraction of the Council Races. Saren had paid the price for desperate hope.

His eyes burning, Saren's metallic jaw glinted as he closed his mandibles, summoning his strength. "Report."

Benezia cleared her throat. "I have discovered another Beacon. It was found on Eden Prime."

"Send our agents," Saren hissed, "I need the Beacon. They can't resist me forever! We must find the Conduit, we must!"

"It's too late, Saren," Benezia said. "This is not a frontier colony, this is Eden Prime. It is heavily guarded and we cannot risk an open attack."

"No!" Saren clenched his fists, "No! We are running out of time," he coughed, "We will use the geth. They will take the blame, and Sovereign can continue move in secret...disguised as a geth dreadnaught."

"It will take days for the geth to move in secret towards Alliance Space," Benezia cautioned.

"We will join them when they are ready," Saren coughed, "Eden Prime will burn. The humans will _burn._"

Benezia knew it had to be done. She closed her eyes. "As you wish, Saren."

* * *

**Codex: Space Combat/Planetary Assault/Stealth Reconnaissance**

_Modern military strategy is determined by two factors: space control and planetary defence. Controlling interstellar space is the primary responsibility of modern military forces, as inhabited space stations and planets are vulnerable to long-range attack. However, the Citadel Conventions prohibit the use of large kinetic impactors against habitable worlds. In a straight-on attack, any misses plow into the planet behind the defending fleet. If the defenders position themselves between the attackers and the planet, they can fire at will while the attacker risks hitting the planet. A violation of the Citadel Conventions, depending on the severity of the infraction, results in sanctions, blockade, or intervention by Citadel "Spectres." The highest level of infraction, an intentional kinetic impact resulting in radiological or atmospheric degradation, results in the immediate deployment of the Citadel Fleet against the offending party._

_Under the limitations of the Citadel Conventions, successful assaults on garden worlds hinge upon accurate intelligence, referred to in the Alliance Navy as Stealth Reconnaissance Operations (SRO). SRO are essential to determining the precise location and distribution of hostile defenses for future surgical strikes. Groundside defense systems can mask their thermal signature and LADAR profile into the surrounding terrain, rendering them particularly dangerous to space forces. Special Operations Forces (SOF) are deployed to identify and target, and potentially sabotage, planetary defenses, asteroid and lunar weapons systems, and communication and sensor hubs. _

_SOF are most often deployed through civilian space vessels to infiltrate target systems. Alternately, special operations forces can enter hostile systems using aerospace vehicles launched from mass accelerators to "drift" into enemy space from outside a defended system's perimeter. However, as stealth vehicles cannot decelerate without rendering them detectable to hostile thermal sensors, they must travel at relatively low velocities resulting in transit times from months to years. The tactical value of low-velocity insertions during wartime is negligible. More rarely, an attacking force can launch hundreds of drop pods to saturate hostile aerospace defenses. A small fraction of pods contain SOF while the remainder are decoys. However, a saturation mission invariably results in heavy losses except against lightly-defended planets, leading Alliance personnel to call them "spray and pray" operations._

_Recently, the Citadel Council, led by the Systems Alliance, has invested in developing next-generation stealth vessels to overcome the traditional limitations imposed on planetary assaults. A vessel capable of reducing its thermal signature can insert special operations forces into hostile systems without compromising the speed and tempo of military operations, as well as providing fire support for strategic strikes on mobile defenses, and advanced sensor capability. _

[Updated 29-May-2016]


	3. The Biotic

**Liveship Rayya, Deep Space, Valhallan Threshold **

**2183.07.08**

Tali'Zorah nar Rayya clambered into her bunk and collapsed with a moan. "Ancestors, I'm tired."

It had been a hard day scraping the nutrient vats. She had spent ten minutes in the sonic show getting the sludge out of her suit but her olfactory sensors still detected a faint whiff of grit and worse. Tali'Zorah shouldn't have even been in the vats, it was punishment imposed by her incompetent commander, Crew Chief Shul'Gar vas Rayya. In in Tali'Zorah's opinion, Shul'Gar wasn't fit to operate garbage compactor, let alone command a crew section. He had made her life miserable for the past six months.

Tali'Zorah had completed her rotation in engineering and transferred to environmental systems. Like all young quarians, Tali needed to know how to use every system aboard their vessels. She had been looking forward to a new section of her education, but Crew Chief Shul'Gar vas Rayya had wasted little time in disabusing her of that notion. He was a bully who enjoyed belittling the crew under his command. Shul'Gar had just enough cunning to avoid the scions of more prosperous and powerful clans and hide his more egregious cruelties from his superiors under the guise of harsh discipline and training. What's worse, Shul'Gar hated the Zorah Clan. Tali'Zorah had taken the brunt of his petty insults and the worst jobs in their section. Tali had almost gone to her father for help when she had cut her suit running a diagnostic crawler manually through a clogged disposal pipe—she was sure that Shul'Gar had broken the remote guidance system—but she knew that her father would never intervene in the ship's internal affairs. Even of he cared.

Thankfully, Tali'Zorah wouldn't have to put up with Shul'Gar for much longer. It was just three more days until her twentieth Naming Day. Despite her exhaustion and irritation, Tali felt a spark of excitement. In three days, she would be done scrubbing nutrient vats. She would be written into the Roll of Pilgrims and delivered to nearest inhabited system to discover the galaxy. Tali'Zorah had spent years training for this day and her clan was counting on her to return with enough credits to support herself and her shipmates. Tali'Zorah still held out hope that her father would attend the ceremony, but she knew that it was unlikely. In her mother's place, Shala'Raan would give her the parting gifts. In her father's place...perhaps Admiral Daro'Xen. Tali'Zorah closed her eyes.

She nestled deeper into the memory foam with a groan—she was just too tired to think about it any longer. Tali'Zorah deactivated her speakers and holographic display and the lights inside her helmet dimmed. Her pupils widened to catch the limited light, the reflective discs gleaming for an instant before she sighed and closed her eyes. The slender quarian let her head rest on the padding inside her helmet that cupped the base of her knotted neck and the back of her aching skull. Her bunk was suspended on springs and elevated above the deck, creaking as Tali'Zorah shifted from side to side.

The suspended bunk was necessary because the sensitive pads on her fingers and toes could sense vibrations, a trait that had served her species well in their ancestral caves. The ancient liveship was a symphony of rattles, clanks, and bangs from faulty equipment, the grunts and groans of an overworked beast of burden. Tali'Zorah could tell the difference between rattle of a leaky coolant pipe and the clatter of a water main from several decks away. At the same time, Tali couldn't imagine a world without the distant song of the engines. She imagined that the thrum of power was similar to the sound of the wind. The young woman had always wondered what it would be like to have the wind kiss her violet cheeks and lips, running gentle fingers through her hair. She would never know—the glittering strands of platinum cilia were contained within a padded white hood that contained an neural mesh and plastic tubes that delivered doses of sterols, emollients, humectants, and detergents. The hood was cinched tightly around her throat, neck, and head. The metallic strands of her hair were bundled into a tail that emerged at the base of her neck beneath the padded buffer at the back of her helmet.

It was no use dreaming about something that would never happen. Tali reluctantly cracked her eyes open, reflective lens widening into discs of pale light. Purple drapes were pinned to the ceiling above her head, inscribed with lines of silver calligraphy denoting her rank, family, and clan. Copper spirals, discs, and stars hung from wires. Tali raised her hand ran her gloved fingers along the edges of the ornaments, smiling as they chimed. Several emitted flickering white and green lights, while others beeped and hooted, their aged batteries straining to continue her childhood entertainment. Suddenly the ornaments started to shake and bounce. Several banged together with a metallic ringing sound.

Tali'Zorah growled and smashed her gloved hands against the sides of her helmet. "Unbelievable," she murmured, "I've told them a hundred times that the Habitat Twelve water junction needed servicing! No one listens to me…those…_bosh'tets!_"

Crew Chief Shul'Gar vas Rayya was a fool who treated like she was a first-year _nar'yan_ who didn't know the different between a electro-effector and a mass capacitor! She had told him that their habitat needed maintenance, but he had ignored her.

She rolled onto her side and activated her visor display. She peeked around the shadowed cabin she shared with seven other clanswomen similar to her in age. The room was lined with tapestries except for a darkened nook in the far wall containing an ancestral reliquary filled with dried flowers. The hatch controls glowed on the opposite wall. Tali could see several sleeping forms in their bunks, their visors dark, their suits connected to the bulkheads by a flexible charging cable. The enviro-suit was powered by a combination of kinetic pumps in their boots and emergency batteries, but it was common practice to charge the power cells at night as a precaution.

She rolled onto her back and bit her lip. Tali'Zorah wasn't close with any of her cabin crew. Most were wary of her father's power and status in their clan. Some were jealous of her mating prospects. And, now, no one was willing to risk Shul'Gar's wrath. Tali'Zorah sighed. As if she cared about mating prospects. She was only nineteen and she had no intention of continuing the species any time soon. When she returned from her Pilgrimage, she would receive a new Naming Day and a new place in the Migrant Fleet. If everything went according to plan, she could choose any ship she wanted—and Tali'Zorah wanted the Laboratory Ship Alarei.

_If_ everything went according to plan. "I can do this," she told herself quietly, her breathing echoing inside her helmet.

Nervously, Tali'Zorah activated the private network supported by her suit computer. She had a schematic of the docking bays and a list of launch codes and flight plans. She just needed to "borrow" one of the flightships that were used for intership transport and local exploration, that was all. Tali hoped that the verification codes she had lifted from the ship's computer would still be active, otherwise it was going to be one short trip. Tali'Zorah closed the files and yawned.

Until intelligence had reached the Migrant Fleet just under a year ago, no one had seen the geth outside the Perseus Veil in over four hundred years. Then, the Patrol Fleet monitoring the Phoenix Massing had sighted isolated geth ships transiting the Veil. The Admiralty Board was terrified and the information was classified, but Tali'Zorah had overhead her father and Admiral Daro'Xen arguing several days ago. Daro'Xen was furious that the Patrol Fleet refused to investigate the first geth seen in hundreds of years. The next day, Daro'Xen had taken her aside and asked her to intervene with her father. Of course, that was hopeless, but it had given Tali'Zorah the seed of a plan. Tali knew what she had to do on her Pilgrimage.

"It's going to be easy," she whispered. "Just three more days."

* * *

**Deep Space, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream**

**2183.07.08**

"Ladies and gentleman, this is your pilot speaking, we are approaching our final destination. Thank you for flying Alliance Air and get ready for a bumpy landing."

Chuckling, the pilot cut the intercom and Kaiden Alenko snorted in mild amusement. Kaidan was the only passenger aboard the UT-44 'Rhino.' The interior of the space shuttle glowed with dim red light and the forty crash cages built into the bulkheads were empty, the matte black harnesses swaying limply with each lurch of the spaceship. The Rhino was silent but for the deep reverberation of the thrusters. The two pilots in the cockpit had been nattering away for the past few hours. Still, this was better than bumming around Arcturus Station spending his back-pay on overpriced liquor and refreshments, not to mention the nervous looks whenever he walked into a room. It came with being a biotic. As a result, it didn't matter to Kaidan where he was going; his orders had listed a berth and a launch hour, and Kaidan was ready for a change of station.

The intercom crackled, "Prepare for some attitude adjustments. We've been ordered to do a manual dock with the exterior airlock. Hold on tight while we enter their mass effect envelope, out."

_Here we go,_ Kaidan thought dryly, _At least we've arrived and I can get off this puke bucket._

Kaidan's stomach churned as the shuttle's attitude control thrusters fired again, pushing him into the drop-down restraint that pinned him to the side of the spacecraft. The padding was worn and flaking after years of abuse by the armoured shoulders of Alliance Marines; Kaidan winced uncomfortably and wished he wore more than his dress uniform. Kaidan held on to the plastic handles on the exterior of his restraint harness and hoped he didn't throw up all over the front of his good uniform.

The UT-44 began to vibrate and the hull pinged and twanged like an electric guitar, and for a horrible moment Kaidan thought they had fractured the hull, but then the shuttle shivered and was still.

"Inside her shields now," the pilot announced, "Assume docking positions."

Kaidan glanced around at the empty hold and sighed as he braced himself for dock.

The two ships connected with a thud. The snap and crack of the airlock seal was like the sound of breaking bones. Finally the airlock control flashed green. The crash harnesses popped open and retracted swiftly into the ceiling with a hydraulic whir. Kaidan rolled his shoulder and levered himself out of the metal bucket-seat he had been trapped in for three hours, grabbed his spacer's bag from the cage, and trooped to the front of the Kodiak. There, the airlock door winked green and the copilot saluted.

"Had some ice on the hull, but we're good now, Lieutenant. Seal is green. Opening airlock," the copilot said.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Kaidan saluted, and the muttered under his breath, "Thanks for an entertaining trip."

Kaidan Alenko entered the airlock and waited in parade rest for the quarantine scan to complete. He knew he cut an elegant figure in his Service Dress Uniform: tall, well-built, with dark features and swept-back black hair. His coffee skin was well-suited to life in space and Kaidan lacked the sickly pallor of some of his fellow servicemen.

While he waited Kaidan eyed the airlock critically. You couldn't tell much from the standard airlocks, built to the same specs across Citadel Space, but Kaidan could tell that it was new. Completely new, without a single mark, scuff, or blot of discolored plastic. Kaidan ran through a mental list of Alliance vessels under construction and came up empty. Kaidan wondered if he had been posted to a starship or a station; it changed how cramped and claustrophobic his living quarters would be.

The inner airlock hissed open and Kaidan saluted immediately, "Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko reporting for duty, sir. Request permission to—"

"Can it, Ell-Tee, I'm not your CO."

Kaidan stopped. A short man with a trim brown beard leaned heavily on the airlock controls wearing the blue-gray fatigues of Alliance Operational Dress Uniform (ODU). He pushed back his blue cap. "I'm Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau, but everyone calls me Joker. Welcome aboard the SSV Normandy. Come on, I'll show you to the NO."

"Thanks," Kadan said as he entered ship, looking around in confusion as he had never head of the SSV Normandy.

"Look, don't ask me any questions," Joker grumbled. "I'm only here because Anderson's punishing me."

Kaidan's lips compressed in a thin line as he observed the pilot's steady limp, supported by braces under his uniform. It seemed as if he had damaged his legs or was suffering from gravity sickness. Ignoring the pilot's condition, Kaidan said, "Did you say Anderson? Captain David Anderson?"

"The one and only," Joker snorted, "I just may have made some adjustments to the variable geometry thrusters…The turian threw a fit. So Captain Anderson was like," Joker adopted a deep, reverberating voice, "_You aren't going back into that cockpit until I say so!_"

Kaidan raised his eyebrows fractionally. "You always talk about your CO like that, Joker?"

"Yeah, why?"

"And you seem surprised you're on a punishment detail," Kaidan rolled his eyes. At the same time, he wondered who the turian was and what he was doing on an Alliance vessel.

Joker hobbled down the elevated walkway, muttering under his breath as he picked his way around exposed deck plates where technicians were busy pulling out thick bundles of optic cables.

"What's with the high ceilings?" Kaidan whistled, "I've never been on a ship with this much breathing room!"

"You can thank the turians for that one," Joker said, "The big chickens don't like low ceilings. Evolutionary thing, apparently."

Kaidan made a small sound of understanding. Consoles gleamed on either side of them and Kaidan quickly identified the Communications and Environmental Systems consoles for a small ship. "I thought I was heading for a carrier or a station, but this has to be a frigate," Kaidan mused, "And a small one at that!"

"Hey! What are you calling small?" Joker turned and frowned, "The word you're looking for is fast. Fast and deadly, got it?"

"Alright," Kaidan replied pleasantly, "This must be something top secret. Prototype?"

"Above your pay grade," Joker laughed, "Look, all I'll say is that you're aboard the best ship in the fleet."

"Got it," Kaidan smiled.

The elevated walkway exited onto Combat Information Control, dominated by a recessed holographic display showing a floating master readout of the ship. Kaidan whistled as he received his first glimpse of the Normandy. The golden wireframe depicted a sleek aerodynamic starship with twin wings bearing a bank of oversized thrusters. Ailerons—Kaiden suspected they contained communications equipment—gave the Normandy a rakish profile.

"Look at that curve!" Kaidan said, "This is a stealth vessel, but those engines are enormous! Where did this thing come from?"

"That's more like it!" Joker clapped him on the arm and grinned, "Maybe you're not so bad, tight-ass. But I'm done here, so I'll let Presley fill you in. Hey, Presley! You handle the new guy!"

Joker winked at Kaidan and turned around, swearing as he seized the rail of the holotank to stabilize himself, and limped away.

Kaidan traded salutes with a balding, older officer. "Lieutenant Alenko I presume? You're our new biotic! I'm Lieutenant Commander Charles Presley, Navigation Officer of the SSV Normandy SR-1. Welcome aboard. I assume Lieutenant Moreau told you absolutely nothing? He's quite a character, but he's the best pilot in the Alliance, trust me, you'll be glad he's aboard."

Kaidan shook hands with the Normandy NO, who had a raspy but friendly voice. "Thank you, sir. My orders were rather curt, could you fill me in?"

Presley nodded. "Necessary security precaution, I'm afraid. This whole operation is currently Top Secret, Lieutenant. The SSV Normandy is the prototype for a new class of stealth frigate, and the first Alliance vessel to truly take advantage of our allies technologies." Presley coughed and glanced around the CIC, "That means there's a turian Spectre on board overseeing the project, Lieutenant, so watch what you say."

Kaidan pursed his lips. "So this is a joint project with the turians?"

"With the whole Council," Presley said, "They found that the Alliance is a lot more willing to innovate then the Hierarchy or the asari—and we're willing to share our research and development, not like like the salarians!"

"Fascinating," Kaidan murmured, "I can't to see what this ship can do, sir."

"Neither can we! Thus far we've just spent a week in vacuum testing our kinetic barriers and engine performance, but we're due to begin our shakedown cruise shortly," Presley smiled companionably and ushered Kaidan towards the rear where two curving access corridors led down to the habitation deck. "The CO is Captain David Anderson, you've heard of him of course. He'll see you as soon as he's able. You'll want to introduce yourself to the XO in the interim, she's in command of the marine detachment."

Kaidan Alenko nodded. "You said I'd the new biotic?"

"That's why we're bringing you in so late in the game, Lieutenant. We've been shaking out the crew for the past week," Presley nodded briskly, "But our biotic had to be rotated out, problems with his implant. He was an L2, you see."

Kaidan's jaw clenched and a electric shock spiked through his nervous system. He clenched his fists and took a single second to suppress a biotic flare. Muscles tingling, Kaidan unclenched his jaw. "I see," he said flatly, "Was he alright?"

"Shipped out for treatment," Presley said sadly. "The Marines took it pretty hard, so be _gentle_ on them, Lieutenant."

Kaidan guessed that the Navigator had never served closely with Marines. "So, who is my commanding officer, sir?"

Presley smacked his forehead. "Of course. I suppose it's old news around here. Commander Jane Shepard."

Kaidan's jaw dropped.

The Navigator had escorted Kaidan around the remainder of the main deck, showing him the mess and the sleeper pods, before releasing him to stow his kit in personnel storage. Kaiden had followed him in a daze. Jane Shepard, the sole survivor of the Akuze Massacre. One of the rising stars in the Systems Alliance Marine Corps, until she had dropped off the radar six years ago after the Battle of Elysium. Rumors swirled that she had joined the special operations forces, and Kaiden believed them. The elevator to the lower deck hummed into place and the mechanical doors slid open, waking Kaiden from his reverie. Kaidan looked out of the lift warily. He had been told engineering and storage were on the same level and engineers were notoriously unwilling to allow jarheads access to their arcane realm. Kaidan followed gleaming white lines until he reached the hold.

Kaidan whistled soundlessly. It was huge. Personnel lockers and storage crates were located on the starboard bulkhead, while two M35 Mako Infantry Fighting Vehicles were secured on the port side of the hold in magnetized clamps. At the rear of the hold was a blast door and airlock leading to the access ramp and launch bay.

The Normandy Marines had set up camp between the Makos; an overturned crate served as a table and piles of combat webbing and empty fuel canisters were being used as seats. Kaidan scanned the group of six Marines. Kaidan identified a Gunnery Chief chewing on an unlit cigar, a smirking Corporal, and a handful of Privates. Including the two privates standing watch in the CIC, the Normandy had a squad of eight soldiers led by two officers—Commander Shepard and himself.

"We're shit out of a luck, grunts," the Gunny said around her cigar, slapping a hand of cards onto the upturned crate with a bang, she gestured with a finger to a Marine across form her, "I see _that's_ a blitz."

The Marines laughed as they threw credits onto the crate, except for one soldier with his back to Kaidan, wearing a black Thermal Layer with a hood. He was collecting the winnings as the other Marines groaned and joked. Kaidan took a deep breath and glanced back towards the elevator before squeezing the strap of his duffel. He ran his other hand across his glossy black hair. _Let's get this over with. _Fixing a smile on his face Kaidan strode quickly towards the Normandy Marines. "Hey guys," Kaiden said with a forced smile, "Can anyone tell me where to find Commander Shepard?"

"You've found her, soldier."

Commander Shepard rose to her feet and turned towards him. Kaidan stared into a pair of green eyes, transfixed. The hooded man was a woman. Her almond-shaped eyes gleamed beneath a wide forehead marked with a thin white scar. The hood of her Thermal Layer was drawn closed around flat cheekbones and a fierce nose. The glossy material was emblazoned with a crimson slash and the N7 logo.

Kaidan's eyes widened. "C-c-commander!"

The lieutenant saluted and winced at a sharp jolt of pain in the back of his neck. _Damn it. _

"Lieutenant Alenko, I presume?" Commander Shepard said.

His muscles trembled, "Ma'am! Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko reporting for duty, ma'am!"

The Marines at the poker table were staring at him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Commander Jane Shepard leaned back, her expression blank. Sweat beading on his brow Kaidan stared at a point above her head.

Commander Shepard was not what he had expected. He had a dim recollection of newscasts featuring her image on the extranet a few years back, and Kaidan remembered a fierce, proud face staring out at a hostile galaxy from within black and red armor. In the flesh, Shepard was compact, raw, physical. He couldn't believe that he had managed to piss off his new commanding officer already. Finally, Shepard nodded, "At ease, Alenko."

Kaidan dropped into parade rest. Commander Shepard had a husky voice that hummed like a finely tuned muscle car.

"I said at ease, Lieutenant. _Relax_." Shepard rolled her eyes and Kaidan flushed.

"Uh, sorry, ma'am. Yes, ma'am," Kaidan said, rolling his shoulders.

She looked him up and down and her movement were steady and controlled, almost hydraulic, radiating an aura of leashed strength. "So_ you're_ our new biotic."

"Yes, ma'am," Kaidan suppressed a spurt of irritation.

"I heard you were a Sentinel."

"Yes, ma'am."

The Marines were watching the exchange, heads swiveling back and forth. Shepard slid her hands into the pocket of her hoodie. "You saw combat in the Viper Nebula."

"I did, ma'am." Kaidan said flatly.

A rogue electrical charge flashed through his body and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. Kaidan didn't now what to say; Shepard's eyes were still blank. She had a great poker face. "Well. Welcome to Alpha Squad," Shepard held out her hand.

Kaidan took her long-fingered calloused hand in one of his own and shook.

With that, Shepard nodded sharply, "Jenkins, show the Ell-Tee his locker and get him into an ODU."

Kaidan's eyes flickered at the forceful tone. One of the Marines bounded to his feet with a grin, "Aye-aye, Commander," he tossed a salute.

Shepard sat down, seemingly done with Kaidan. Kaidan hesitated and then turned on his heel and followed Jenkins. "Nice to meet you, sir, I'm Corporal Richard Jenkins."

The tanned Marine had the sleeves of his ODU rolled up and his black beret set at a jaunty angle. He had a squashed, flattened face and an rolling stride. An weighty pistol was clipped to his belt, configured in the holstered position.

"That's a Kassa Razer, Corporal," Kaidan said in surprise as they approached the lockers in the far wall.

"This, sir?" Jenkins grinned, "You packing standard issue? You'll want to look into getting some better gear, sir, than that Hahne-Kedar shit. Of course, that's sort of your job, so…"

Kaidan frowned, "What do you mean, Corporal?"

"Well you're slotting in as our staff officer, right sir?" Jenkins said, "So if you talk to the ship's purser you can pretty much requisition anything you need."

Kaidan's eyebrows rose fractionally and Jenkins laughed. "Welcome to the Normandy, Ell-Tee." The Marine slapped an empty locker and it shot open with an electric whir, "Here you go, sir. And you saw the mess and the coffins?"

"Yes, Corporal, thank you," Kaidan said. "No bunks at all aboard ship?"

"Nope. Well, just for the officers," Jenkins said, "We do short and fast deployments. Kicking ass and taking tags before bugging out for Alliance space." Jenkins smashed his fists together with a mock growl.

Kaidan laughed, "Roger, Corporal."

He glanced across the garage. Commander Shepard had her back to them.

"The Commander sure cracks the whip, doesn't she?" he said softly, trying to figure out what he had done wrong.

Jenkins just smiled, "Don't worry about the Commander, sir, she's tough but she's the best."

Kaidan hesitated, "Thank you, Corporal, that will be all."

"You should join us when you're squared away, Ell-Tee," Jenkins said, "Trust me."

Jenkins tossed a salute and Kaidan returned it absentmindedly. It didn't add up. Jenkins and the other Marines seemed easy-going, even informal. If Shepard was a tight-ass Jenkins wouldn't have risked his neck answering his questions honestly, because Kaidan might have ratted him out. But the Commander had seemed cold and hard. Kaidan dropped his spacer's bag and started unpacking. Commander Shepard was a conundrum.

* * *

Jane Shepard dropped her cards on the upturned crate and stood. She wanted to leave before Lieutenant Alenko returned, allowing him a chance to meet the team without the interfering presence of his commanding officer. She traded a swift look with Gunnery Chief Lee, who nodded. Shepard swore that the woman was a psychic. Her hooded eyes didn't miss a thing, and after years of service with Captain Anderson aboard the SSV Agincourt, Lee had seen pretty much everything. Shepard cracked her neck. "That's it. I'm out."

"Checkin' out good lookin' over there, Commander?" Private First Class Monica Negulesco murmured. "Yum-my!"

The Commander glanced at Negulesco. The tanned woman had primped hair, a big heart, and an even bigger mouth. Smart as a whip, Negulesco was a veteran of a dozen deployments with Force Recon. But she had no filter, and the woman had been promoted and demoted with startling frequency before Shepard had selected her last year. Shepard shook her head without smiling. "Not my type, Negulesco."

Negulesco had a laugh like a horse, "Hah! That's more fucking information about your type than I've ever heard."

"We know too much about _your _type, Negulesco," Hsaio grinned.

The diminutive Private Second Class Jing Hsaio was perched on a crate like a bird. Their designated marksman had just graduated from N-School with the highest scores in marksmanship in decades. She had a trio of metal medallions dangling around her neck: Saint Michael, a squashed impactor with a hole in it, and the Buddha.

"You're fucking right," Negulesco had a laugh like a horse, "I like 'em rougher around the edges than slick-and-click over there."

Shepard snorted, and Private Second Class Cam Fredricks shrieked with laughter. For such a large man—not to mention blonde-haired, bull-necked, and blue-eyed—he had a surprisingly high-pitched laugh. He was partners in crime with Jenkins. Next to him, reclined on a hammock of combat webbing, was Private First Class Orden Laflamme. He suffered the brunt of their ill-advised antics, but the dark-skinned rifleman ignored their carping with complete indifference. The Frenchman was unbelievably lazy and had avoided promotion for years, intentionally failing several courses at the Marine Corps Institute to fall back from corporal to private. But Laflamme had served alongside her in the Verge, and Shepard trusted his steady hand on a rifle more than most.

"Come on, Commander," Negulesco grinned, "Don't want to take the boy wonder for a test drive, just be sure?"

"Can it, grunts." Gunnery Chief Lee removed her cigar, "Leave the lieutenant alone. No fraternization, Negulesco."

Smirking, Shepard shook her head. "Keep an eye on them, Gunny, and don't hurt the lieutenant too badly. Put my winnings in the pot."

"Roger that, Commander," Gunnery Chief Lee gave her a casual salute with her cigar, "Next round's on you."

Shepard nodded. The collected winnings were always put into a pot that was put towards the next round of drinks in port. Chief Lee collected Shepard's neat pile of credits and swept it into an empty helmet with a clatter while Shepard stood and rolled her shoulders, glancing towards the Lieutenant Alenko, who was stowing the contents of his duffel in an empty locker.

She had selected Alenko from a roster of available biotics and the Lieutenant seemed like he was experienced, cautious, and controlled. She had already read his file, and knew that the Lieutenant was a powerful biotic and a combat veteran. Like their previous biotic, Lieutenant Fei Haisheng, Alenko was an L2 from the first generation of human biotics. Unfortunately, Haisheng had been shipped back to Arcturus Station for medical treatment after his implant had shorted out.

"Carry on, Marines. I'm out."

"Aye, aye, Commander!"

The Commander spared her soldiers a brief glance. They were a good team. Losing Haisheng was annoying, but Shepard was confident that they would pull through. They deserved better than her halfhearted attempts at camaraderie. But it was her job to train them, use them, and, if necessary, lead them to their deaths. But if she did her job right...

Shepard turned towards the elevators to hide her frown. Hands in her pockets, she strode through the cargo bay. She needed to integrate Lieutenant Alenko into Alpha Team quickly. The Normandy Project was almost complete and the Systems Alliance was eager to test the effectiveness of the ship's stealth systems on an active mission. Shepard needed to whip Alenko into shape. It had taken her six months to train Lieutenant Haisheng to her satisfaction, and he had been an X6 Biotic. Alenko was an X5 Biotic with no experience in special operations forces, but he had been the best available candidate for the position. At least he had seen combat.

Shepard stared into space as she waited for the elevator. If Lieutenant Alenko wasn't careful, Alpha Squad was going to eat him alive. She almost cracked a smile. Shame she had to keep him. It would have been fun to watch.

* * *

**Codex: Humanity and the Systems Alliance/Systems Alliance/Biotic Service**

_The Systems Alliance is the primary recruiter and employer of human biotics. While human biotics are still relatively rare and do not have the natural power of the asari or the krogan, biotic servicemen and women are considered a valuable tactical addition and are specially selected for detached service in elite units. Biotics receive special training to control their abilities and hone their skill with a biotic amplification implant, or 'amp,' before entering Basic Training. Biotics are encouraged to pursue advanced training take advantage of their natural abilities, these training programs are kept separate. Once trained, biotics receive the Military Vocational Code classification X1-X7._

_Biotic are deployed exclusively with the Systems Alliance Marine Corps to maximize their tactical utility. Biotics are assigned to Marine units directly by Naval Headquarters. Marine detachments in combat zones receive priority. Biotics are also deployed with Special Operations Forces to provide a tactical advantage independent of equipment and supply._

_In combat, biotic servicemen and women use their unique abilities to provide support to their unit. Mass effect fields can be manipulated to weaken and immobilize high value targets, disable enemy units, and draw targets out of cover. Biotics function like a mobile intelligent weapons system and are considered at high risk for combat fatigue, anxiety, and traumatic stress. Officers should respond accordingly._

[Updated 29-May-2016]


	4. Training Games

**Alcyoneus Base, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream **

**2183.07.11**

The Normandy returned to Alcyoneus Base after a trial cruise around the perimeter of the Arcturus System. Over the three days in deep space, Captain Anderson had tested the crew's response times and training while technicians monitored the performance of the stealth systems. The crew had worked to fix the inevitable glitches and errors that accumulated when a prototype was first rendered operational: new systems always interacted with older systems in unexpected ways, computer programs crashed, and the techs discovered missing lines of code or faulty connections. Aboard ship, the Marines had nothing to do. They stood watch on the CIC and the Captain's cabin when they were on duty, and performed maintenance on their weapons, armor, and vehicles when they were off duty.

When Kaidan Alenko was honest with himself—which, given his penchant for introspection and a streak of wry humour, was relatively common—the Lieutenant admitted that he was lonely. The Marines of Alpha Squad had been handpicked by Commander Shepard for the Normandy Project and had been working together for months. Some, like Gunnery Chief Indigo Lee, had served with Captain Anderson on the SSV Agincourt. Others had been selected from Shepard's tours in the Verge. A few, like Corporal Jenkins and Private Fredricks, were more recent additions from N-School with impressive credentials and experience in Force Recon.

Kaidan didn't know where he stood. He was Commander Shepard's staff officer and that meant he outranked the enlisted marines. However, Alpha Squad was a very small unit and the other Marines were all special forces. He couldn't simply pull rank in a unit like that. Trying to avoid awkward situations, Kaidan ended up riding shotgun in the cockpit with Joker. The pilot didn't seem to care much about rank or protocol, and the Lieutenant found himself enjoying Joker's company.

The Commander hadn't helped Kaidan acclimatize. She remained distant with him on or off duty. Kaidan quickly clued in to the fact that the Commander had a penchant for wandering the ship and appearing in unexpected places. Her fierce, unblinking gaze kept the crewmembers and marines on their toes. She was never unfair, unlike some commanding officers that were obsessed with finding 'mistakes' and forcing their subordinates to rectify them (Kaidan had once served under a captain who used his omni-tool to scan their berets with a laser to see if they were within regulations). Kaidan was eternally surprised how many COs did not plan for failure and then work to overcome it, but instead expected failure and waited to punish it.

But that wasn't Commander Shepard. Kaidan never saw Shepard do anything other than work hard, and, silently, expect her subordinates to follow her example.

* * *

When they finally returned to Alcyoneus Base for overhaul the ship's crew had bunks, fresh food, hot showers, and access to a training simulator. The Marines of Alpha Squad, on the other hand, had been doing nothing for days. Commander Shepard had them all hit the shooting range and then the gym to blow off some steam while she prepared a proper training course.

That was how Kaidain found himself working out while the enlisted marines bounded around the ball court. The Lieutenant pushed himself hard on the bicycle machine. Blue lights on the exterior of the peddles turned into glowing circles. The machine hummed and sweat poured down Kaidan's face. His thighs burned as he pushed himself: forty, fifty, sixty KPH.

On the other side of the bay Jenkins whooped as he put the ball through the hoop and dropped to the deck with a yell. "That's how we do it!"

Kaidan smiled and wiped his forehead, disturbing his gelled hair. He let the peddles run down and settled in at 44kph. The computer monitored his efforts and compared it to his records, rating his performance and announcing, 'Keep up the good work, Staff Lieutenant Alenko.' Kaidan's breathing was labored. _Only 98% personal… baseline… Spend… Too long… On starships…_

The doors to the gym hissed open and Kaidan saw Gunnery Chief Lee enter, an unlit cigar clamped in her mouth, as usual. "Morning, Lieutenant," Lee said, saluting.

Kaidan let the peddles spin down slowly. The holographic display beeped rapidly as Kaidan toweled off. Kaidan raised a leaden arm and saluted, panting, "Morning, Gunny."

Lee's crest of purple hair bobbed as she came to stand in front of him, folding her muscular arms behind her back. "Permission to address the men, sir?"

"Of course," Kaidan nodded.

The Gunny gathered the Marines in the court. Kaidan joined her and wrapped the towel around his neck, watching.

The Gunnery Chief Lee planted her hands on her hips. "The Normandy's optics will be reinstalled by twenty-two hundred Zebra, giving us eight hours before we ship out! The Commander says we're heading through the Mass Relay for our shakedown cruise."

"Where are we heading, Gunny?"

"Just one jump to Utopia."

Jenkins cheered. "Hey, I'm from Eden Prime, Gunny!"

"We know!" Private Fredricks cackled, "You never stop talking about how boring it is. Guess what? You're right!"

Jenkins chucked the basketball at Fredricks' head, "We gonna get any shore leave? I'd love to show 'em back home what I've done!"

Kaidan shook his head, "This project is still classified, Jenkins, no shore leave."

Fredricks threw the ball back to Jenkins, who ducked, "You can't go telling everyone about the Normandy, Richie!"

"Can it, grunts," the Gunny said, "That's it for the sitrep. Now, Commander's done setting up our training course. Time to armor up and head down to Cargo Bay Three."

"Aye-aye, ma'am!" The Marines chorused.

As the Marines departed to grab their kits, Kaidan frowned for a moment before throwing his towel onto the bike and jogging to catch up to the Chief in the corridor.

"Gunny!"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Where's the Commander now?"

"Cargo Bay Four, Lieutenant," the Chief answered.

"Thanks," Kaidan said, and started down the corridor.

"Hey, Lieutenant?"

"Yeah?"

Lee removed her cigar and grinned, "Good luck."

Kaidan frowned, "Uh, thanks, Gunny."

Shaking his head, Kaidan made his way to the elevator, biting back frustration. He had been kept out of the loop again and had no idea what Shepard was planning. _Why doesn't she tell me anything?_

Feeling slightly annoyed, Kaidan took the elevator down to the empty cargo holds. He found Bay 4 and punched the panel; the doors opened with a whoosh. The metal bulkheads shone with streaks of hydraulic fluids and machine oil from the loader mechs and crates were distributed throughout the room in a semblance of low cover. The overhead lights hummed faintly.

"Commander Shepard?" Kaidan said when he spotted her.

Commander Shepard was sitting in the center of the cargo bay on a cylindrical container. She wore a black hard-suit with the N7 symbol on her breast. The carbon nanotube plates flexed slightly on top of black mesh when Shepard bent forward as she reassembled a stripped-down assault rifle. "You're not in armor, Alenko."

"No ma'am, my apologies ma'am."

"Do you have something to say, Alenko?"

"Permission to speak freely, Commander?"

"Granted," Shepard said instantly, leaning back on her crate.

Kaidan took a deep breath. "I'm your Staff Lieutenant, Commander. Why am I always the last one to know what's going on?"

Shepard slotted the stock into her rifle.

Kaidan clenched his jaw and a jolt of pain shot through his amp. "I need to do my job, ma'am, and I'm good at my job. Is it because I didn't attend N-School, sir? Or is it because I'm a biotic?"

"I have nothing against biotics, Lieutenant," Shepard said.

The Commander slapped the control panel on her rifle and the stock and barrel whirred as they sprang into firing position. She raised the rifle towards the far wall and pulled the trigger. The line of blue light on the front of the barrel turned orange and emitted a beep. NO AMMUNITION.

"Then what is it, Commander?!" Kaidan spread his hands, "Let me do my job; let me prove myself to you."

Shepard lifted a slender cylinder of metal and slotted it into the weapon's magazine. The indicators returned to blue. She turned her head to face him. "Very well, Alenko. Show me what you can do. Go suit up and meet me here in five minutes."

Kaidan blinked, "Commander, that's not what I—"

"I'm offering you your chance to prove yourself, Lieutenant, isn't that what you wanted?" Shepard stood. "Suit up, Lieutenant."

Kaidan was getting angry. "Tactically, I don't need to suit up, Commander," Kaidan said stiffly, "I fight in a skin-suit, and given the situation you won't even get a shot off."

"I won't?" Shepard said with a tone that Kaidan couldn't identify—amusement or anger or both.

"No ma'am," Kaidan replied "I'm a biotic and you're six meters away from me. I can hit you before you even move."

"Then do it, Alenko," Shepard said, "That's an order. Just remember to set your barriers to training mode. I wouldn't want to hurt you."

Kaidan flushed. Shepard was poised, her rifle held loosely across her chest. _What is this going to prove? This isn't what I wanted._ But he couldn't back down.

The biotic threw out his hands and sent a bolt of neural energy through his amp. A sphere of blue light shot straight towards the exposed commander. Shepard threw her rifle into the air and the Throw Field seized the mass in its trajectory and propelled it forward. The rifle shot over Shepard's head as the commander sunk into a crouch.

Kaidan's eyes widened as his attack missed and he deactivated the flow of power through his amp—but not quickly enough. Even as his biotic field dissipated Shepard's omni-tool flashed and launched a grenade towards the deck. Instantly, a boiling cloud of glittering gas swept through the room in a wave, lapping at the door and curling back along the ceiling. Coughing, Kaidan retreated, waiting for a counterattack. He backed up to the cargo bay doors and waited.

Glittering strips of metallic film fluttered and sparkled in the gas to confuse and deflect combat radar and thermals. Kaidan activated his Barrier on low power. He had never seen someone react as fast as Shepard, or use such a simple method to divert a biotic field.

"Mass effect fields travel at the speed of light, Alenko, but your attacks are limited to the speed of the biotic," Shepard's voice echoed out of the gas, "I could have shot you right there."

Kaidan peered to the left where Shepard's dry voice was coming from.

"A trained soldier can detect and react to a biotic strike—" She continued, and Kaidan launched a heavier Throw in the direction of Shepard's voice.

The blue pulse blasted the gas away and smashed into Shepard's helmet sitting on a crate. The helmet speakers cut out with a squeal and the helmet spun end over end and smashed into the wall of the cargo bay. Kaidan's eyes widened. _It was a trick!_

Commander Shepard appeared out of the gas cloud and touched her pistol to Kaidan's chest. She fired once, twice, thrice, and Kaidan's barriers rang with the blasts and then collapsed. A blade of hot, electrical pain hammered through Kaidan's head. Shepard seized Kaidan's right arm with her left hand and pressed her pistol to his chest. Kaidan froze, his expression blank with shock. Shepard looked at him coldly, but her eyes… Her eyes blazed with a hunter's passion. Breathing hard Kaidan uncurled his fists, "You win, Commander."

"Hot shit, Commander!" Corporal Jenkins said loudly and Kaidan's head snapped around and he saw that the doors to the cargo bay were open.

The cloud of gas flowed out into the corridor and swept around the legs of the Normandy Marines, all carrying helmets under their arms, and, if that wasn't embarrassing enough for the biotic, Dr. Chakwas was with them. The doctor had a sardonic smile on her face and a medical kit in her hand. Gunny Lee shook her head with a growl, "Shut it, Jenkins."

Kaidan's tanned cheeks flamed. Shepard holstered her pistol with a whirring click and took a step back. "Lieutenant Alenko was demonstrating his biotic powers."

Kaidan blinked in confusion and glanced at Shepard. She sounded sincere.

"Jenkins," the Commander smiled, her tone sober, "It looks like you just volunteered to be the next test subject."

"Shit, she's smiling," Negulesco murmured, "We're all going to die."

Jenkins swallowed. "Uh…What?"

The Gunny barked a laugh and slammed her helmet on top of her purple mohawk. "Get moving, Corporal," she said through the speaker, "Time to show the Ell-Tee how good you are at absorbing hits."

Kaidan leaned towards Commander Shepard and whispered, "What are you doing, Commander? You destroyed me."

"That's my prerogative, Alenko," Shepard turned his smile towards him, a smile that touched her burning eyes and made them crinkle slightly at the corners. "You said you wanted to show me what you could do," Shepard said quietly, "This is still your opportunity."

Kaidan had never seen her smile. "Yes, ma'am!"

A very nervous Corporal Jenkins walked to the center of the cargo bay. "Don't hold back, Ell-Tee," Jenkins smiled and then put his helmet on.

"Show us what you got, Alenko," Shepard said.

"I'm not going to use my full power," Kaidan said, "But I'll show you what I can do."

Kaidan drew a breath and then powered up his amp. He didn't enjoy putting on biotic displays, but he was still reeling from his beating at the Commander's hands. He had to show her that he could, at least, hit a stationary target. Electricity crackled along his arms. Drawing in a breath, he threw out his hands and a pulse of blue light hit Corporal Jenkins in the chest, sending the Marine flying into the air. With a snapping crash Jenkins impacted the bulkhead and slid down to the floor. "Jenkins?" Dr. Chakwas breathed.

The Alliance Marine bounced to his feet and ripped off his helmet. Beaming, Jenkins threw out his arms, "That. Was. Awesome!"

Kaidan's heart resumed beating and he grinned as the other marines crowded around him, whooping and slapping armored gauntlets on his back. Commander Shepard gave him a single smile. "Good work, Alenko. Good work."

* * *

Commander Shepard tilted back her head and took a draft of beer, her wide, angular cheekbones gleaming in the overhead lights. Her straight red hair hissed across the collar of her uniform. She could sense Nihlus Kryik's gaze from the other side of the bar and suppressed a flicker of irritation. She slapped her glass on the aluminum bar and raised a finger.

Alcyoneus Base was carved out of the interior of the asteroid. The plate windows in the mess hall revealed melted iron-nickel ore on the other side of the pressurized bulkheads. A large plastic decal hung over the bar that read 'Alcyoneus Construction Base, 10th Engineer Company.' Behind the bar were racks of fridges containing glowing neon tubes of asari liquors and bottles of human beers and spirits. The shiny metal tables were full of off-duty Alliance Cee-Bees—members of the Navy Corps of Engineers. At a separate table, Shepard's Marines were getting drunk and enjoying real rations shipped from Eden Prime through the Mass Relay. For the first time, Kaidan Alenko had joined them. The lieutenant was drinking a luminescent blue tube of asari liquor from a straw.

The bartender appeared and placed another can of lager on the bar. Shepard had a real glass, leftover from the launch ceremony, but the beer was canned shit shipped from Eden Prime. Shepard popped the can and poured it into the glass, then looked at the bartender and gestured over her shoulder at her Marines. "Another round. Put it on my tab."

She took another long sip. The cold rush served to dampen the itch in her throat and nose, memories of desire that continued to haunt her. It was a need she wanted to stay buried. But it was a shallow grave and she was like a scavenging animal, drawn to the disturbed earth, sticking her face in the rotting ground. _Control yourself,_ Jane thought as she seized the glass, running a calloused thumb along the lip. Hot and cold. The memory rose in her thoughts, the red of smoggy sunsets and targeting reticles, the fire in her blood. The thrill of combat chemicals coursing through her body. _Control yourself._

"Commander!"

Shepard looked up at Lieutenant Alenko, who had stepped up to the bar with a drink in one hand and a salute in the other. The Lieutenant was squared-away as always. His ODU was pressed and crisp, his chin square, his hair slick. But he also had a stupid smile on his face that made him look less like a holo-image of a soldier. Shepard summoned the will to nod in his direction and Kaidan dropped the salute. "I just…wanted to thank you, Commander. I appreciate what you did for me with the Marines and I…apologize for confronting you."

Jane felt her jaw muscles twitching and tried to relax. "I wanted you to confront me, Alenko, seemed like you needed it. Now, drink. That's an order."

"Yes, ma'am!" The Lieutenant smiled broadly and then drank.

Shepard shook her head as she took a gulp of beer. She knew Kaidan was older than she was, but he looked younger. Shepard had been observing the Lieutenant carefully, trying to figure out what made him tick. She had realized that he had been avoiding her marines—as much as possible on a small frigate. He had been distant, reserved. A part of her respected that, but she had needed him to commit. Fast.

Kaidan was flushing under the heat of her gaze. "Permission to speak freely, ma'am?"

"Granted."

"Look, Commander. You…were right. I was acting like a REMF."

Jane snorted loudly.'Rear Echelon Mother Fuckers' were the byte-counters and support troops that never saw combat.

Kaidan winced and shook his head, "But you showed me, Commander. You tossed me around like I was nothing. I think… Well, I'm a biotic, ma'am. But that doesn't mean I'm better than you, or Jenkins, or Fredricks. I joined the Alliance to serve humanity, and I want to, I really do."

"You've been a biotic since you were nine, Alenko, right?" Shepard said huskily, "You've always had power. I understand that, I really do. You're confident, I get that, but you need to know that just because you're an officer and a biotic doesn't mean you're not human. You need the lick of fear just like the rest of us. Keep you on your toes."

The lieutenant swept a hand across his dark hair, "So you thought you needed to beat the shit out of me, ma'am?"

"You're a good Marine, Alenko. But there was a part of you that still thought you were untouchable. But now—now you're one of mine. Now you can be a warrior—and a decent officer worthy of respect."

"I don't know what to say, Commander," Kaidan said softly.

Jane shook her head again wordlessly and looked over the aluminum bar. _Don't look at me like that, Alenko. _Jane drained the rest of her drink and stared into the glittering absence left behind. _Damn it, Anderson._ Her sense of relief vaporized as quickly as it had come and her stomach churned. She felt drained. She forced herself to smile at her lieutenant, "Don't worry about it, Ell-Tee."

"Thank you. Ma'am." Kaidan Alenko smiled, looking a little dazed but happy. "Uh, permission to join Alpha Squad and get really drunk now, Commander?"

"Granted," Shepard said softly.

Kaidan saluted and went to join the members of Alpha Squad.

Jane stared into her empty glass for a moment. She hoped that Alenko understood what she had been trying to say. Captain Anderson had once told her that '_A commander does not expect authority. A commander demonstrates they are worthy of authority.'_ Anderson thought it was important. Shepard didn't know if she agreed, but she knew that Kaidan had been holding back. He hadn't shown her, or her marines, that he was worthy of respect. Shepard, well, she had to teach him, just like Anderson had shoved it into her brain. Shepard felt very tired. It was a lot of damn work, having emotions. Taking care of her team. A part of her missed working alone, in the Verge. It had been a relief after years of butting heads with officers and civilian liaisons. Now she was back in the saddle, and it was one hell of a bumpy ride.

"Very interesting, Commander Shepard," Nihlus Kryik's mandibles flickered too fast for her to follow as the Spectre appeared and leaned against the bar.

Shepard went for her gun before she could stop herself, twitching away at the last second. She stared evenly at the Spectre. He had been following her around for weeks now and it was really starting to piss her off. _Can't shoot him. Can't shoot him. Come on, can't shoot him. It wouldn't solve anything. But it would feel great._

Kryik sat down next her, "I heard about your training session in the cargo bay from your Doctor, Chakwas. You showed excellent leadership skills."

Jane ordered another beer to distract herself. "What do you want, Spectre?"

"I merely comment," Nihlus replied, "You are…special."

_Special_, Jane Shepard wanted to spit. "I'm not special, Kryik. I'm just a soldier. A well-trained soldier."

"You rose from the enlisted ranks, Commander, which is rare in your human military. You attended Officer Candidate School and special operations training, all before you were twenty human years old."

"Congratulations, Spectre. You can read."

Nihlus looked down his long, sinuous neck at her. "You don't sound pleased. Are you not proud of your accomplishments, Shepard?"

Jane thought about that for a moment. "Nobody's special, Spectre, don't you get it? We're in this together, no matter how much we want to be alone. There's no room for thinking we're special snowflakes."

"So you recognized a kindred spirit in Lieutenant Alenko," Kryik murmured, "You too wanted to be alone, but you know that your unit lives and dies as one."

Shepard's eyes narrowed to slits.

"You are trapped in an uncaring and demanding society," Kryik murmured, "I sympathize. The Hierarchy is highly organized, Shepard, but there are still those that are exceptional, deviations from what society wants us to be. Unique creatures."

"Unique?" Shepard snapped, "You still don't get it. There's nothing special about me, Kryik. I got lucky. That's it. I got lucky, and now I have responsibilities I can't, I won't, abandon. We rise to the tasks we are given, or we die trying."

"Some fail, Shepard," Kryik's burning green eyes matched hers, "You won't, will you? You'll rise to the task, again and again, no matter how badly you want to stop."

"It's only a matter of time," Shepard growled, "We all die, Spectre, and we all die alone. That's when we escape."

Nihlus' mandibles opened wide. "You…are fascinating, Commander."

Shepard snorted and leaned back. "That all you going to say, Spectre?"

"Yes, Commander."

They paused for a moment and then Shepard blew a breath out of her nose, "What are you doing here, Kryik. You're with Citadel Council Special Tactics and Recon—what are you doing hanging around an Alliance special project? Or did they just send you here to make my life miserable?"

"I can honestly say that is not why I am here, Shepard," Nihlus purred.

"And yet you won't tell me why you are here," Shepard grunted.

"What about you, Commander? An Interplanetary Combatives Team—what are you doing here?" Nihlus asked, evading her question.

"I'm here for Anderson," Shepard said, baring her teeth. "This is his project."

"But you force yourself to excel regardless?"

Shepard frowned and shifted, "I do what I was trained to do."

They stared at each other.

"You should have a drink, Spectre," Jane muttered, "This might be the last wet bar we see in a long time, we ship out through the Relay tomorrow morning. Next stop, Eden Prime."

Nihlus tilted his head, scanning her with his chemical green eyes. Then he raised a talon. "Bartender? Do you have any dextro liquors?"

It turned out the bar was still stocked from the launch ceremony. Nihlus received a blue-tinted cylinder. "I believe humans have a custom called cheers?"

Shepard smiled fiercely and raised her beer towards Kryik. "Everyone dies," she said. "Make it worth it."

Nihlus blinked and raised his glass with a strange smile. "Yes, of course. Everyone dies. Make it worth it."

* * *

_**Codex: Ships and Vehicles/Normandy SR-1/Crew Complement**_

_The Normandy SR-1 has a crew of twenty-two Alliance Navy servicewomen and men and a detachment of ten Alliance Marines. The Normandy's oversized drive core and Internal Emissions Sink occupy the majority of the frigate's mass, limiting the space available for the crew. This is compounded by the fact that Normandy's large cargo bays are designed to carry ground equipment for Special Operations Forces deployed on the Normandy's missions. Thus, the Normandy's crew must utilize sleep pods rather than bunks, and recreational space is limited to the mess. _

_In 2183, the Normandy SR-1 has a total complement of 32: _

_CO - CAPT David Anderson _

_XO - STCM Jane Shepard _

_NO - LTCM Charles Pressley _

_CHENG - LTCM Greg Adams _

_CMO - STCM Dr. Karen Chakwas _

_2MO - CPL Abishek Pakti _

_CFO − 1LT Jeff Moreau _

_2FO Flight Officer - SVCF Jamin Bakari _

_COMBAT INFORMATION CONTROL - 2LT Germeen Barrett, SVCF Addison Chase, SV1C Silas Crosby SV2C Rosamund Draven, SV2C Alexei Dubyansky _

_SHIP OPERATIONS - 2LT Amina Waabari, SVCF Hector Emerson, SV1C Robert Felawa, SV1C Talitha Draven, SV2C Harvey J. Gladstone, SV2C Caroline Grenado, SV3C Marcus Grieco, SV3C Helen M. Lowe _

_ENGINEERING - SVCF M. Rahman, SV1C R. Tanaka _

_MARINE DETAIL - SLT Kaidan Alenko, GNCF Indigo Lee, CPL Richard Jenkins, P1C Dan Shay, P1C Orden Laflamme, P1C Carlton Tucks, P1C Monica Negulesco, P2C Cam Fredricks, P2C Jing Hsiao_

[Updated 29-May-2016]


	5. Eden Prime

**Eden Prime, Utopia System, Exodus Cluster**

**2183.07.12**

Shepard plummeted out of the Normandy's launch bay and fell towards the hard ground below. She turned in mid-air and, as she fell, she saw the dreadnaught once again. The hand of a dark god erupting from the heavens covered in plates of glistening black armor. Bolts of crimson lightning erupted from the clouds. The sky was cracked open and shone red as sunset and sorrow.

The Normandy peeled away and Shepard and Alpha Squad hit the landing zone. They spread out across a ridge several kilometers away from the dig site. The horizon was consumed by a storm of red lighting and the unknown invader, a dreadnaught that had torn into the planet, poised like a monstrous spider. Planetary defense cannons fired out from the arcology towers. Suddenly the dreadnaught fired a horrendous crimson beam and impacted an arcology, sheering through the metal in a series of explosions. The glass tower shattered and began to fall, rounds from the cannons still spitting into the air. A wave of dust swept across the burning fields as the tower smashed into the ground.

Shepard gritted her teeth and turned her back on the sight. She wasn't here to save the colony. _I can't believe they kept this mission a fucking secret! Retrieving a prothean beacon…. Looks like someone else knows the beacon is here, and they're willing to destroy the entire colony to get it._

Her hot breath echoed inside her helmet. Her ears buzzed with chatter on the communications network—ten Marines did one hell of a lot of complaining. Lee growled, "Can it, grunts."

Shepard had other things on her mind. She was pissed. The Commander and Kryik had kept her in the dark, and now her Marines were dropping into a hot zone with bad intelligence. Her throat ached with the energy required to keep her voice steady and even as she directed her Marines towards the dig site. Jenkins and Lee took point. Their combat sensors jangled with low-level interference. No pings.

That was when phasic rounds cut through shields like shards of glass drawn along naked skin.

Shepard's eyes widened, her mouth opened—

A platoon of mechs had emerged from cover among the bone-like rocks and dry trees. Floating drones had emerged from hiding under ridge-line, hovered in place, locked on, and fired before they could even react. A thousand rounds of phasic slugs ripped through Jenkins' shields instantly. With a whir like a saw the bolts of blue fire swept through his armor and into Lee. Jenkins and Lee were torn into pieces and scattered across the yellow dirt, their armor spitting white fire. A froth of blood-pink Medi-Gel bubbling out of the gaping wounds. Shattered and melted shards of plastic and carbon fiber were scattered across the yellow grass.

"Take cover!" Shepard's trained body reacting without conscious direction.

She hurled herself behind a rock and began returning fire. The Marines took out the drones and suddenly a horrible silence fell, the deep, ringing silence after a firefight. The distant hammer of the cannons. Shepard rose smoothly, steam blasting out of her rifle, and turned around. She stared at Lee and Jenkins bodies. Kaidan Alenko stumbled to his feet and then tottered towards the fallen. Shepard swiftly intercepted him, seizing his shoulder.

Alenko stared blankly at her. "Commander, they—"

Shepard switched to a private channel. "Pull yourself together, Alenko. They died so we could live. You don't get to fall apart!"

Alenko's jaw hardened. "Aye, aye, sir!"

Shepard clapped his shoulder, then turned to her fallen soldiers. She bent and tapped their medical panels. Nothing.

_Fuck._

She seized their tags roughly and stored them in her utility container.

"Marines!" Shepard snapped. She heard her own voice like the snap of breaking ice and fought to keep calm. "Use your eyeballs, sensors are limited. Move out."

The Marines moved forward, leapfrogging from cover to cover. The tactical communications network was silent. Shepard took point, angry and wary, her eyes tracking across the ravine. Simultaneously her mind tried to grapple with the new information—autonomous killing machines. Cyclopean eyes of utter empty whiteness. They had to be Geth Troopers… It was unimaginable. But she had to process the new information. She fed her squad new orders, adjusting their tactics to meet the new opponent. She would do this.

Alpha Squad left the tree line and descended into a field strewn with large boulders. _This is a killing field_, Shepard thought, "Double time! Watch your sectors!"

Suddenly a figure burst out from between two rocks.

"Hold your fire, friendlies!" Shepard's barked, "Incoming Marines!"

Alpha Squad hit the deck and took up firing positions as a gaggle of panicked marines sprinted out from around a twist in the ravine. Shepard watched, disgusted, as several fired wildly over their shoulders. A wave of drones appeared behind them, firing repeatedly.

"Take them down!"

Alpha Squad fired, concentrating their fire on the heads and chest. Silent and fast. Maintaining emissions control (EMCON) to avoid enemy sensors. In seconds it was over and Shepard rose to her feet, her remaining Marines following suit.

The other squad was wearing white and red armor. They milled in confusion at Shepard's approach. While Alenko set up a perimeter she sorted out the newcomers. It turned out that a squad from the 2nd Frontier Division had been holed up in the valley. Only five were left alive; one had their arm sealed in a plastic cast and covered in Med-Gel; another had lost her helmet; their leader was Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. The long-jawed Marine was shaking slightly as Shepard took a situation report, "We're the only one's left, ma'am! The geth...it's the geth! They took the dig-site, just at the end of the valley."

Shepard nodded grimly. "Then we'll take it back, Williams."

She looked at the tired group of Marines and she frowned. _Th__is has become a frontal assault and I need warm bodies. Damn it. _Shepard slapped her rifle. "On your feet, Marines!"

Backs straightening slowly the wounded soldiers clambered to their feet. Haggard eyes met Shepard's own.

Shepard smiled. "You're with me, Marines. Let's kill some geth."

* * *

Nihlus Kryik twisted and thrashed, his talons scrabbling against the ground. He was dying. His helmet was shattered and the visor was black with blood, but he could see a sliver of the sky through the broken crystal. He couldn't feel the right half of his face. He couldn't see out of his right eye. The sky was cut with knives of fire and death. His throat convulsed, his long tongue flapping desperately. He was drowning in his own blood. Each gasp delivered barely enough air to keep him awake. Nihlus knew he was already dead. His body just didn't know it yet.

"Spirits, Nihlus. You should be dead. Half your head is just…gone. I expected it to be painless. The least I could do, after all we've been through."

Saren Arterius knelt next to his fallen brother, balancing on his taloned feet. His heavy pistol dangled from one hand and he tilted his head. Nihlus' remaining eye trembled inside rings of tissue, constricting in horror. Saren's mandibles had been sheathed in silver. His eyes had been replaced with cybernetic orbs. Nihlus clawed at the polycrete panels at this side, desperate for his sidearm.

"I'm sorry, Nihlus," Saren rasped as he seized the weapon. "You don't understand what's at stake. I considered asking for you help, brother, but you were never…willing to do what needed to be done."

Saren ejected the ammo block, checked the acceleration chamber, and tossed the useless pistol over his shoulder.

Nihlus' was frantic. He gasped for air and blood and spit leaked out of his mangled jaw. He didn't understand what was happening. For the first time in centuries, the geth had emerged from the Perseus Veil and their first target was Eden Prime. The only reason they could have chosen this planet, deep in Alliance Space, was the Beacon. The dig site had been empty, and he had followed the trail of death and destruction towards this installation. And then Saren—his mentor, his friend—had killed him.

"The Reapers can't be stopped, Nihlus, you have to understand that, I can't see any other way! Is not submission preferable to extinction?" Saren panted as he seized Nihlus' head.

_The Reapers—?_ Nihlus screeched in pain as Saren shook his shattered skull. His vision flickered. Saren removed the optical storage device slotted into the access panel at the base of Kryik's helmet and raised it towards the dying sky. He stowed the OSD and stood. Nihlus rocked from side to side. Not like this!

"This is the only way," Saren gasped, "I needed the Beacon, Nihlus. No one can know I was here. You had to die. You had to die!"

Saren drew his sidearm. His hands were steady. Nihlus' talons tightened. Blood dribbled down the torn flesh of his throat. He closed his remaining eye. _Shepard. I'm sorry. You're on your own._

"You won't live to see it, but I promise you, Nihlus, I will save our people, as many as I can."

Saren fired.

* * *

Geth exploded as the Alliance Marines took their revenge. A battery of blue-tinted metal spikes on mechanized platforms was located around the abandoned dig site, and on the spikes were human bodies. The spikes retracted with a hiss and the bodies toppled onto the ground, glowing with threads of blue wire… Her heads-up-display was scanning the targets and displaying a confused mess of information. The bodies twitched.

Shepard's eyes narrowed. _You have got to be kidding me…_ "Open fire, keep them back!"

A wave of mass effect impactors flashed across the grass. Shepard felt a flash of pride as her Marines conducted a tactical retreat, shepherding the newcomers, and keeping the distance from their targets—no one was panicking, no one was hollering imprecations on the radio. They did their job with speed and control—_despite the fact were shooting fucking zombies!_ She tore a target in half with a controlled burst, an inner animal roared in satisfaction, and her rifle overheated with a shrill alarm,

Combat sang like venom in her arteries, in her throat, in her eyes. Two of her Marines had already fallen. _I won't end up like…this! _Shepard bared her teeth as a gibbering, veined monster swung a clawed hand towards her face and she smashed its skull with the butt of her rifle, again, again, and again. Sweat poured down her forehead inside the hateful cold of her helmet.

A final wave of fire dispatched the remaining zombies.

Shepard ordered them forward. They secured the dig site, but the excavation was empty. The beacon was gone. Shepard stood, shaking with anger. _I lost two good marines for...a pile of dirt and broken machinery._ _No. _"They can't have gone far," Shepard growled, and she spun towards the dreadnaught, "Move out!"

Shepard led her Marines into the docking station for the local cargo trains, taking out a platoon of synthetics and advancing up the ramp. Suddenly, Jane swore inside her helmet. _Nihlus. _She motioned to her men and they set up a perimeter. Shepard shouldered her rifle and squatted next to the body. _This is going to be a shitty report..._

Nihlus was dead. His mandibles blasted open and his hide splattered across several meters of concrete.

Shepard inspected the body and then closed her eyes for a single moment—"Everyone dies…" Shepard opened her eyes. She reached out with her gloved hand, tactile sensors tingling, and probed at the base of Kryik's helmet. The computer in his helmet had been stripped. _Damn it._ Shepard wanted to feel something, but all she felt was a vague sense of regret. Nihlus had been watching her, and now he was dead. She would never get to yell at him. She wondered if he would consider his death worthwhile. Some human planet, some alien object.

Shepard rose. S_till have work to do._

They searched the area and hauled a dockworker out of a pile of crates. Shepard extracted what he had seen. The lucky bastard had survived while Nihlus was dead, but he had seen another turian, someone named Saren Arterius, and the Prothean Beacon.

Shepard had a target.

She left the civilian with Williams and her scrap of Frontier Division to secure this end of the train. Shepard had to move fast, now, and she couldn't babysit Williams' shell-shocked Marines at the same time. She took Alpha Squad and pushed forward down the monorail. As the train rocketed across the pockmarked fields, Shepard stared into the red sky and tried to understand. Geth. The beacon. Saren Arterius. It made no sense. She kept one eye out for drones, feeling dangerously exposed on the open train carriage but desperate for speed at the same time. In the distance, fire washed across another arcology tower and the building began to collapse. The train pulled into the station.

At the processing station the geth were everywhere. More civilians were impaled on twisted machines. Shattered transport crates spilled out grains and seeds across the deck, trampled and ground up, mixed with white machine lubricant and dark, sticky blood.

The enemy had set explosive charges and they moved quickly to secure the area. Shepard's shoulder muscles hurt from the recoil as they hit the processing station hard. Everything became a blur of fire and speed: fire, disarm the charges, advance, take out more troopers, fight through the zombies that attacked them with buzzing, clicking wails, advance—

Suddenly, the firing stopped. All Shepard could hear was the ringing sound of breaking glass.

A pillar of black metal emitted radioactive green light. Shepard could hear something, scratching at her mike, interference. Shepard looked away for a moment to check on Alpha Squad. She had disabled the automatic network that would normally pipe her their information, leaving only the laser communicator. She eyeballed her team and nodded. "Secure this position and call the Normandy—"

Shepard looked back at the alien device, wondering if it was worth Lee and Jenkins' lives—and saw Kaidan falling to his knees in front of the beacon, twisting and turning as the sickly green light rose brighter and brighter. Without thinking, Commander Shepard threw herself in front of the Prothean Beacon. Kaidan Alenko went hurtling across the deck. Suddenly, a crackling tendril of green energy stabbed through her shields.

Shepard didn't even have time to scream. Jane convulsed. She rose into the air, limbs pried open and pinioned by a vibrating force. She was crucified in mid-air as beams of green energy pierced her skull. Suddenly, her vision went double, she could see—

_Prismatic spires rose into the red sky, shining cities full of life and energy, pheromones, thoughts—clouds of red gas and tinted light forming a space station, opening like a steel flower, physics, figures, numbers—_

She couldn't understand. Her bones were shaking apart, her head was being cracked open by the sound, the sound of trumpets, an impossibly deep, bass roar. The horns announcing the end of the world. Her eyes were open but she didn't see the crimson sky of Eden Prime. She saw something else, blood and fire. Reality and memory, reality and virtual reality, tangled into a fiery mass. Memories coagulated and expanded, split open and shriveled up, over and over. Dead bodies and gaping mouths. Blood and broken glass. Lee. Jenkins. Kryik.

Jane's throat clenched and spit came out of her mouth as she twitched in the air. She could hear the sound of ringing glass… _"Everyone dies… Make it worth it…"_

_Cybernetic pincers rising and falling, slicing and cutting, a synthetic loom weaving long fibers of muscle and flesh. A sea of flesh and blood flowing across space and time. A cybernetic arm cutting into the world. World after world, again and again._

Jane wanted to scream. Her muscles spasmed wildly. She was blind and deaf. The roar of rage and fear and loss, a scream echoing across tens of thousands of years, the surf of a sea of blood. Every beat and her head pulsed with pain and the darkness, the darkness was expanding. Jane was losing consciousness. Her throat was seized up. Her spine bent back until it felt like it would snap. But she could still hear the plea of untold billions of lost lives, wordless and incomprehensible. Why was she remembering these things? Why was she reliving so many lives, only one of them her own? One life among trillions. Fractals of veins and circuitry exploded out from a single point and then retracting in a wave of expansion and extinction.

_Machines. Creatures in the darkness. Mountains of shadow and steel. Every particle of their being bent towards consumption. Dispersing into clouds of microscopic toxins, the locusts of transmutation. Flesh and machine. Quivering. Throbbing._

_The sound of slapping flesh. The scene shifted seamlessly. Jane was screaming as she kicked and ripped. Knuckles bleeding. Rolling on the ground, fighting. Fight back, Janey! Fight back!  
_

_Beating. Throbbing._

Shepard was suspended in agony and terror. Fear spread, cancerous, through her gut and up her spine. She was going to die, destroyed by the preserved fears of a dead race, her mind broken by the rush of memories and information coming from Prothean Beacon. She was helpless, locked in a nightmare. _Wake up.._. She was going to die. They were all going to die. _Get up, damn it!_ But she was confused: Why was she angry? There was nothing to be angry about. It was hopeless. They were doomed. _No!_

_The red sky peeling away, shimmering layers of thought and time and space. The Citadel, center of the known universe. Flicker. The light of a hundred thousand stars. The galactic plane. Flicker. Darkness. Utter darkness. Flicker. Machines in the dark. Flicker. All is eclipsed._

Commander Shepard fell. Her mind was receding into darkness. It was hopeless. _It's never hopeless. One life among trillions, sure—one life is all it takes._

_Make it worth it_... _MAKE IT...WORTH IT!_

With a silent scream, Jane Shepard tore herself out of the flow of information and fell into blissful darkness.

She lay on a medical bed in the Normandy, she eyes twitching. For an eternity, Shepard dreamed of death.

* * *

**Lattesh, Chomos System, The Phoenix Massing**

**2183.07.13**

Tali'Zorah nar Rayya's breath rattled inside her rebreather and her violet eyes shone. _Calm down, Tali'Zorah. You need to calm down or you're going to overload your scrubbers and then what are you going to do?_

Tali was hunting a geth dropship. For some reason it was difficult to remain calm.

Until intelligence had reached the Migrant Fleet just under a year ago, no one had seen the geth outside the Perseus Veil in over four hundred years. But quarian scoutships monitoring the Phoenix Massing had sighted isolated geth dropships operating outside of the Veil. The Admiralty Board was afraid of what the news would mean to the Civilian Fleet and the information remained secret, but Admiral Daro'Xen had informed Tali just before her Pilgrimage. Daro'Xen had always been attentive to Tali; the elegant admiral worked closely with Tali's father, but unlike Tali's father, Daro'Xen never treated her like she was stupid and couldn't do anything. Daro'Xen never brooked mistakes, of course, but she was just…different…than her father. So when the Admiral had complained to Tali that the Patrol Fleet refused to send a team to investigate the first geth seen in hundreds of years…well, Tali knew what she had to do on her Pilgrimage. This would prove to her father than Daro'Xen was right about her.

That was why Tali in the Phoenix Massing in a tiny quarian flightship that she had 'requisitioned' for her Pilgrimage, floating in orbit of the planet Lattesh. The Chomos System was ideal for the geth to discharge their drive cores while transiting the Perseus Veil—avoiding the mass relay and refueling stations at Tassrah and the colonies at Salahiel and Typhon. There, Tali was going to capture a geth.

Tali glanced away from her computer for a fraction of a second. The living pod at the front of the ship had a domed canopy on the top, allowing her to look to the rear and check the mass effect core and the engine vanes. Her pupils widened even further to drink in the limited light, causing them to appear to glow inside her tinted visor, reflecting the light from the holographic displays. She could easily discern the details on the drive core and was reassured that it appeared cold and dead. Tali really didn't want to be detected by the geth and blasted into ten million particles.

Running dark was her only option. Flightships were not intended for anything other than transport between vessels in the Migrant Fleet or between planets and stations; it was only twelve meters long, had no stealth systems, minimal kinetic barriers, and limited FTL capability. Tali had been forced to shut down the mass effect core and run on fuel cells, cooling the ship and allowing her to remain—hopefully—undetected.

For the umpteenth time Tali recalibrated her passive sensors, nervously tapping at the display and muttering to herself. She had been waiting for a geth dropship for seven days and was running low on rations. If nothing appeared soon she would have to return to a settled world for supplies—_Not that you're likely to get much of a welcome, Tali'Zorah, you're a quarian! I have to find something or this expedition of mine is over._

Tali sighed and dropped her chin to her long neck. She flexed her toes on the control pedals. It was eerie—the ship was silent. She was used to the purr and pop of electricals and mass effect fields radiating through the deck into her padded toes, even if they were slightly dampened by the suit. She needed to adjust her sensors.

Tali was only twenty and was still adjusting to her adult enviro-suit: adapting to the neural mesh that traced her violet skin and connected to the biofeedback sensors on the outside of her suit, giving her a limited sense of touch. The sensors required constant tuning to prevent misfires, and were no substitute for the feel of air on her skin and sensitive hair. Tali reflexively touched the side of her embroidered cowl draped across her helmet. Inside her helmet, the metallic blonde hair that kissed the back of her neck tingled in response beneath it's white strap and neural mesh.

Tali shook her head. There was still nothing on the scanners. This was Tali's Pilgrimage, and she was alone, more alone than ever before. Her body felt too light, like she would float away without someone else to reach out and take her hand. She missed the company—she missed the touch of long, padded fingers, the brush of hip against hip, and the whisper of patterned silk. "You could have gone with the others to Illium and make a few credits but you had to prove that you were good enough for your father's clan, didn't you? Stupid, Tali…" Tali groaned and pressed her three-fingered hands to the sides of her hood. "You're talking to yourself again, Tali…"

Her console alerts chimed and Tali fell out of the pilot's chair.

* * *

A geth dropship had arrived and was descending towards Lattesh. Tali guided the flightship down to the surface by sight and feel, darkened and silent. The geth dropship selected a flat plain of dark rock and lowered itself to the surface. Massive landing gear drilled into the rock as the dropship crouched on the rocky plain like an insect poised to sting. Sheets of arc lightning began to blast towards the smokey sky as the geth began to release the built-up electrical charge on their mass effect core.

Tali whooped with joy. "Got you!"

The geth were forced to deactivate their sensors and kinetic barriers while they discharged their core. Tali tapped her computer and reactivated her mass effect core. The ship hummed beneath her toes and Tali felt a grin spreading across her heart-shaped face. She lowered the ship's mass and drifted towards the dusty surface of the planet, identifying a landing zone just out of sight from the dropship. Dark and silent, the flightship drifted out of the night and landed swiftly.

Tali seized her M-23 Katana shotgun and swung her plastic hard-pack onto her back, containing a long-range transmitter-receiver and a fuel cell. She popped the airlock and lowered the landing ramp. Swirls of black sand rattled against her visor.

There was no time to waste. Tali sprinted towards the ridge that lay between her and the geth dropship. The gravity below quarian normal and she advanced in leaps and bounds, scrambling over sandblasted rocks and up slopes of loose shale. The sky was swaddled in thick, oppressive clouds and the surface was cold, so cold she could feel it prickling through her enviro-suit. Lightning shimmered on the other side of the hill.

Her breath echoed in her helmet as she ascended the slope quickly.

"Got…you!" Tali breathed as she dropped to one knee, careful to avoid any cutting shards of rock—despite the suit's tough shell, quarians never took unnecessary risks with their suit integrity. Tali hid behind a large boulder and peering down the other side of the ridge. The geth were still grounding out their drive charge. Her visor illuminated individual geth units and the outline of the dropship, displaying range and thermal signatures. The first live geth Tali had ever seen, the first live geth any quarian had seen in hundreds of years. "Geth!" Tali whispered, a wave of awe rising up from the sea of fear and nervousness that filled her stomach.

The dropship had disgorged mobile geth units to monitor the surrounding area and Tali deactivated her visor for a moment, drinking in the surrounding light and the elegant, curved shapes of the geth, designed to look like the hooded heads of quarian clansmen.

Her toes were shaking. "No time to gawk, Tali," she told herself. "You only have one shot at this. And if you fail, well, no one will ever know so I guess there's that. But then again you'll be dead!"

As she muttered to herself Tali adjusted her omni-tool and sent a charge through her overpowered transmitter. "Just something to get your attention… Just a trickle… I only need one or two units, it's nothing that warrants more than one or two units you hierarchical _kepleshti_!"

Her trap baited Tali planted a damping proximity mine and then scrambled back down the ridge. She selected another pitted boulder and took cover. Breathing hard, Tali closed her hands around her shotgun. "Don't worry Tali, it's like Reegar always said. When you're fighting geth you need stopping power—one hit, or their response time means you're a dead _vasi._ That's why you have this human truck in your hands. In theory!"

Tali giggled nervously. Then her audio sensors picked them up. A chittering wail, rising and falling. Two sets of mechanical limbs cracking thin stones open like eggshells. _Two of them. That's okay. You knew they would probably send two. Is that binary they're blasting over audio? No, focus, Tali'Zorah!_

Tali tilted her forearm and her omni-tool displayed an audio-map of their relative position. _Almost…_ Her toes were shaking and her hair writhed with static electricity as it picked up her fear and desperate need to detect the geth.

A vibrating scream sounded just behind the rock and Tali flinched. _Now! Do it now, Tali'Zorah!_

She blinked a command to her visor and her omni-tool loaded a sabotage round into her launcher. Tali spun out from behind the rock and saw them: the murderers of her people. Over two meters of gray armor and synthetic muscle fibers pulsing as they turned confusedly on the spot. Panels designed after a traditional headscarve formed a hood around their cyclopean blue eye.

Tali fired: a sabotage round rocketed out of her omni-tool and detonated in a spray of sparks to short out their transmitters. Blasts of steam shot out of the Geth Troopers' pulse rifles as their cores overheated and their barriers failed. Tali pulled the trigger, aiming for the center of mass. One geth blew apart in a spray of white fluid. The second wheeled backwards and Tali dropped to one knee and fired again. It spun as one arm disintegrated. The geth let out a shriek. Tali heard herself scream inside her visor as she fired again and the geth toppled, its upper half pitted and shredded with shotgun fire.

Panting hard Tali lowered her smoking shotgun, her visor beeping frantically as it displayed the heat levels on her weapon. Bile rose in her throat and Tali's chest convulsed. "Move now, puke later," Tali groaned.

She accessed her omni-tool and brought up the remote camera on the damping mine. The dropship remained where it was, bleeding white-hot lightning. But the geth were moving. Five units were converging on the ridge. "It's okay, you knew this would happen, Tali'Zorah!" Tali gasped as she dropped down beside the damaged geth, "They're just coming to check out why they lost contact with two remote units. Nothing to worry about."

Tali put her shotgun down and removed a collapsible laser cutter from her tool-belt. She pushed the geth's head away from the body to expose the synthetic flesh of its throat. Quivering bunches of gray-purple electromuscles twitched wildly. Spurts of white conductive gel gouted out of its ruined chest. Tali seized two bundles and ripped them apart. White goop sprayed across her arms. Through the sensitive pads on her gloves she could feel it pulsing. "Gross, but fascinating!" Tali muttered as she dug deeper. "There!"

She brought the torch to bear and began cutting through the spinal sheath. She modulated the laser to lowest intensity. It would take time. Tali glanced at her omni-tool and swore. The proximity sensors had detected geth. She tapped the haptic panel and the damping mine blew in a wave of electromagnetic energy.

"Thirty seconds Tali'Zorah!" she shrieked, keeping her hands steady despite the fear she swore was eating through her suit like acid.

The spinal sheath cracked open and spilled hissing coolant across her laser cutter. She swore and threw it aside, leaving it on the ground as her hands worming into the opened spinal tube. Cold raced up her arms. She couldn't feel it…she couldn't…there! Tali withdrew her hands and ripped the geth's memory core out of its spine. Green neural cables sparked and died. "Yes!" Tali yelled.

She looked at the black ridge. Lightning flickered and danced on the far side and the clouds roiled in the artificial storm. Tali began to run. The CO2 levels in her suit began to spike and her lungs burned as she sprinted across the rocky field. Spots danced in her eyes as she stumbled into the lowered ramp and crawled aboard her ship, but she had made it. Gasping Tali dragged herself into the flight chair.

Tali lifted off and broke for open space. She had done it.

* * *

**Omega, Sahrabarik System, Omega Nebula**

**2183.07.14**

"Yes!" Tali'Zorah yelled as the information scrolled along the holographic screen.

Tali had finally cracked up the geth memory core after almost twenty-four hours of decryption. She had detached a computer from the ship's systems and connected it to the memory core to run the software. Tali had been worried that she wouldn't have the processing power, but it was just a single unit's backup memory, containing only the information that the mobile platform had processed independently. It was a backdoor into the geth. Tali grinned fiercely. "You're good, Father. You always theorized that the autonomic memory cores would still maintain the operational memories of the specific mobile platforms just like they did before we began networking the geth… All we have to do is cut open the spinal tube."

Tali's Pilgrimage would be talked about for years, she was sure. She was going to show them that she deserved her father's name when she brought back a geth memory core and the knowledge of what the geth were doing outside of the Veil. Daro'Xen would be pleased, Tali thought with a faint tickle of heat on her cheeks.

Tali had taken the Mass Relay back into the Terminus Systems and docked at Omega to take on rations and restock her hydrogen fuel cells, depleted by her maneuvers over Lattesh. She had decided to remain docked while she cracked the memory core and figured out what, exactly, she had found. Once she knew what she had, Tali could return to the Migrant Fleet, currently strip-mining an uncharted system in the Titan Nebula on the outer edge of the Galaxy.

"Now, tell me, where have you been most recently, geth. What are you doing outside the Veil…" Tali ran a diagnostic on the decrypted software, breathless with anticipation. "Alliance Space! Why? What did you see…"

Tali isolated the audiovisual files. "Looks like your visual memory has been corrupted, but I have audio…"

Tali ran a transcription program and loud voices began to play over her speakers. With each word her violet eyes widened further. Her toes began to shake. Information cascaded across her visor and her eyes glowed with reflected light. "Ancestors preserve us…" Tali whispered, "What does this mean?"

A sudden clang made Tali jumped. Her airlock speakers chimed and Tali hesitated. She detached the memory core from the computer and stowed it in her tool-belt, thick fingers trembling slightly. She took the one step from the cockpit to the airlock and tapped the controls. "Uh, what is it?"

"Quarian space vessel, this is the Port Authority. Open up!"

Tali froze. A turian voice, humming with pent-up frustration and violence. This was her first time outside of the Fleet but Tali'Zorah was not stupid. She knew how quarians were treated in the galaxy: pariahs, scavengers, and thieves.

"I haven't done anything!" Tali said into the holographic control panel.

The speakers cut out and Tali frowned. She pressed the side of her helmet to the airlock and held her breath. The tinny vibrations of voices radiated through her helmet: "…Just cut it open and find out if this is the quarian we're looking for…"

"Yeah, if the memory core is there it's a big payday."

Tali gasped and wheeled backwards. They weren't looking to hassle a quarian pilgrim, they were looking for her! They were looking for the geth memory core. Tali scrambled backwards to the pilot's chair and flipped the haptic switches, warming up the mass effect core. "Come on, come on…"

The airlock panel flashed again, "Let us in, quarian. This is just a…routine inspection."

"Really? I don't believe you!" Tali's accent grew more pronounced as she grew more anxious; her clan had come from a different region than the home region for the sole remaining quarian dialect, Khelish, and it still showed in Tali's lilting vowels and warm sibilants. "I want to see some identification. Hold it up to the holocamera."

"What camera?"

"You don't see it? It's there, you can find it!" Tali yelled. She still had forty-five seconds before she could activate her kinetic barriers. She toggled communications. "Omega Control, this is Quarian Aerospace Vessel Aphek-Zero-Five requesting permission to detach."

Static crackled and popped on the open channel. Someone was jamming her. "Okay, Control, but this means it's not my fault if I damage anything then when I blast off!" Tali wailed.

She was still attached to the station by two mechanical arms as well as the airlock seals. It was going to be a rough departure.

The airlock banged. "Alright, quarian. Open up or we'll cut our way in and then. There are people looking for you from this side of Omega to the Nemean Abyss. It'll be better if you come quiet, with us."

"Station security is on their way!" Tali retorted as she rerouted power from life support to kinetic barriers and programmed the thrusters to slide her out of her docking cradle before turning her towards open space. Twenty seconds.

"No they're not, you quarian bitch! That's it…"

Suddenly Tali's vessel shuddered. Smoke hissed out of a panel on the inside of the ship. "Last chance, bitch, or the second blast is going to take you out as well as your lock."

Tali gasped. She tabbed her omni-tool. "Alright! I surrender! Don't shoot!"

"Open the airlock!"

"You damaged the controls," she lied, one eye on the slowly rising power gauge, "Just wait!"

Tali strapped in. Her heart was hammering. One second. "See you in the underworld, you _bosh'tets_!"

The thrusters fired along the rear arc of the ship and Tali's flyer shrieked as it ripped itself out of the docking arms. _This is going to hurt!_ Tali moaned as the spaceship's kinetic barriers smashed into the side of her docking bay and then the thrusters spun the vessel starboard and towards open space.

Alarms were wailing. The impact had downed her kinetic barriers and the capacitors needed to recharge. "Ancestors help me!" Tali'Zorah breathed.

The airlock was begun to whistle as the damaged polymers buckled. Smoke poured out of the vents. The holographic panel flickered and went out. _I won't be able to return the flightship after this... No, more important things, Tali! __If the flight pod depressurizes it will send the flyer into a spin and who knows where I will end up. _Tali though frantically. _I have to… _The airlock cracked. It was too late. "Sorry, Father," Tali whispered, "I think I've failed you."

Tali ejected. The canopy blew out and a chemical rocket blasted her away from the vessel. The quarian vessel entered a tortured spin as atmosphere rushed out of the flight pod. A guidance vane snapped and whipped away from the vessel. Tali's visor was shrieking a dozen environmental warnings. Her heart was pounding. She was so cold. Darkness clawed at the edges of her vision.

Tali'Zorah passed out.

* * *

**Codex: Non-Council Races/Quarians/Enviro-Suits**

_Quarians suffer from a combination of secondary immuno-deficiency and environmental hyper-sensitivity. As such, quarians require the use of a sophisticated environmental suit (enviro-suit) at all times. _

_Quarians have always lacked a sophisticated adaptive immune system as the biosphere of the quarian homeworld, Rannoch, functioned primarily as a symbiotic, rather than pathogenic, microbial environment. When exposed to compatible cross-species pathogens, quarians lack the ability to generate an immunological response. Consequently, the quarian Migrant Fleet practices aggressive sterilization and vaccination procedure. While cross-species infections are dangerous but rare, after centuries of living in a sterile environment the quarians have become hypers-sensitive. Minor environmental conditions and bacterial pathogens are toxic. Inconsequential annoyances to other species can cause an excessive response in an unprotected quarian resulting in dermal irritation, inflammation, pulmonary distress, and in extreme cases, toxic shock._

_In response to these conditions, quarian scientists have developed sophisticated biosecurity technology. Quarians were already known for advanced cybernetic augmentation and as their environmental sensitivity increased they pursued biochemical protection in the form of regulatory implants, sensors, and rebreathers. Eventually, quarian engineers perfected an integrated environmental suit to protect their skin, filter atmospheric toxins, and prevent exposure to pathogens. Quarian enviro-suits are masterpieces of personalized cybernetic engineering, consisting of an inner cybernetic mesh that functions as a limited 'second skin' that can be wired to external biofeedback systems to provide quarians with an adequate sense of touch. The middle layer is completely sealed (managing perspiration, heat, and waste) and protects the body from exposure. The outer layer is composed of light fabric armor laced with microcapicators. The enviro-suit is compartmentalized, similar to the internal bulkheads of a space vessel, and equipped with sensors to detect and seal damaged areas. Quarian enviro-suits are completed by a sealed helmet that filters breathable air, and the visor is tinted to protect quarian sensitive night vision._  
_Quarians can adapt their enviro-suits to perform a number of secondary functions similar to a military hard-suit, including integrated optical and thermal imagining, virtual intelligence support, and omni-tool compatibility. The suit can be armored with carbon nanotube plates, external servomotors, and cooling tubes._

_The result of a breach to a quarian environmental suit varies with the severity of the damage, the environment, and the susceptibility of the individual quarian. The relative rarity of a compatible cross-species pathogen means that the real concern is environmental toxins penetrating a wound. If a 'suit infection' occurs a variety of medical systems built into the enviro-suit respond with antibiotics, antivirals, and immuno-suppressants._

_Contrary to popular belief, quarians can remove their enviro-suits. Quarians outside of the flotilla wear enviro-suits and do not reveal their faces to people outside of their clan. However, inside the Migrant Fleet quarians can remove the outer layers of their enviro-suit in a clean environment without pathogenic and environmental conditions detrimental to quarian health. In addition quarians can 'link suits' to acclimatize individual immune systems, a practice common among clan members. Even within the Migrant Fleet, quarians will spend the majority of their adult lives within their enviro-suits. The biofeedback sensors connected to the inner cybernetic mesh constitute the most common form of physical connection._

[Updated 29-May-2016]


	6. Visions of War

**SSV Normandy, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**

**2183.07.14**

"Doctor! Doctor Chakwas! I think she's waking up!"

Shepard blinked slowly. Her head was aching and her entire body felt like a single bruise swollen until it was ready to burst. She felt a swift lash of fear and pain as a tidal wave of tangled memories and hallucinations came back to her. Visions of war. Destruction. Pain. And death. It hit her like a ringing gong, drowning out all other thought and sound: Indigo Lee and Richard Jenkins were dead. Her marines were dead. Her heart tautened and stopped and the acrid taste of defeat rose in her stomach and throat.

"You had us worried there, Shepard."

Dr. Chakwas, as usual, didn't let any of her concerns show on her handsome face. The doctor continued to speak calmly but Shepard lost track of what she was saying as a fresh wave of pain threatened to crack open her skull. Groaning, Shepard forced herself to sit up and clutched her head. Dr. Chakwas put her hand on Shepard's arm. "Easy, Shepard. How are you feeling?"

"Minor throbbing. Nothing serious." Jane rasped, trying to focus. She needed to know what had happened. "What happened to my Marines?"

"Your Marines are fine, Shepard," Dr. Chakwas said, "Now, I need—"

"How long was I out?" Shepard interjected.

"Just over twenty-four hours," Dr. Chakwas pursed her lips.

Shepard's head fell back. "Damn it!"

"It was my fault," Kaidan choked, speaking quickly, his spine straight.

Kaidan explained that Shepard had pushed him out of the way of a wave of energy emanating from the Prothean Beacon. But Shepard had been trapped in a field of green light. Shepard put a hand to her head; Kaidan's voice grated on her, his sharp breaths like little knives in her ears. When Kaidan took a particularly deep breath, Jane raised a hand and forced herself to smile, _That's what he wants. Reassurance._ _Escape from the pain. _"No way of knowing what would happen, Alenko."

"Thank you, Commander," Kaidan sighed. "I...won't let you down again."

"I know," Shepard said roughly.

"That quite enough talking," Dr. Chakwas said, "Shepard, please. This is important. I need to run some tests!"

Satisfied that, at least, the remainder of her squad and the Normandy had made it through intact, Shepard relented and let Dr. Chakwas run her tests. Lieutenant Alenko paced back and forth as Dr. Chakwas ran Shepard through a battery of standard neurological assessments. Fingers. Arms. Legs. Date of birth. Name.

"You have some unusual brain activity…"

_That can't be good. _Shepard's brow furrowed. The Beacon. Reality and memory. Reality and virtual reality.

"…Intense dreaming."

The doctor's words summoned something from Shepard's memory. Something clicked like a weapon unfolding into firing position. In that moment Commander Jane Shepard knew that what she seen inside the Prothean Beacon was real. A race of Reapers had destroyed prothean civilization and harvested all advanced intelligent life, converting their flesh into machines of destruction. It had happened, and the Beacon was a warning. She didn't know why she knew that it was true but she did. Before she could stop herself, Shepard said, "Not a dream. A vision… Death. Destruction…It's not clear."

Her temples throbbed. _Blood and flesh…_ she shook herself, but she couldn't shake a whisper that echoed in her ears. A voice that faded into indistinct murmurs like the sound of an insect's wings rustling against a screen. Shepard heart was racing and she struggled to focus on Dr. Chakwas. "I need to talk to Captain Anderson."

"I'm here, Shepard," Captain Anderson entered; Shepard and Shepard saluted. Captain Anderson returned their salute. "At ease. May I have some time alone with the Commander, Karin, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir!" Alenko said.

"Five minutes," Dr. Chakwas pursed her lips. "Try not to let her strain herself, Captain."

The doctor and the lieutenant departed. Captain Anderson waited until the door slid shut behind them before turning to Shepard with a solemn smile. "How are you holding up, Jane?"

Shepard barked out a sharp-edged chuckle, "You asking about how I feel after all this shit? I'm alive, Anderson, don't worry about me. Nihlus is dead. Lee and Jenkins are dead and I'm sitting here on my ass and my head feels like it's going to explode. I don't like losing soldiers under my command, Anderson! Not like this. Not for nothing. We walked right into an ambush. I'm an N7. I was supposed to be ready."

"Jane, slow down," Anderson rubbed his forehead, "Listen to me."

Shepard clenched and unclenched her jaw. "What?"

"I understand what you're going through," Captain Anderson said softly, "Some officers in the Navy can go years without seeing combat and even when they do, unless you're a fighter pilot, you're not even going to see the guys you're shooting at. But it's different for the Marines. Soldiers are going to die under your command and they're going to die in front of your eyes. I know you think if you'd been smarter, or faster, things would have turned out differently. But you're wrong. This is war, Jane. And no matter how fast you, no matter how smart you are, your men are going to die."

Shepard squeezed her eyes shut as she leaned against the medical bed. It was so much easier when she was on her own. Just her and her target. "I know that, sir."

"You need to accept that, Jane! You need to know that they died so that you could complete the mission. They didn't die so that you could beat yourself up over it. I served with Chief Lee on the Hastings for years, Commander. She will be sorely missed. But she would kick my ass if I didn't carry on and do my duty!"

Shepard let out a silent breath. _They all need it. Reassurance. That I'm fine, that I feel the same they do._ "Damn it, Captain, you're...right. Jenkins would want us to get drunk and have a good time. He wouldn't want us to give up."

Anderson let his hands rest on Shepard's shoulders for a single instant.

"I'm fine, sir." Shepard said softly.

Anderson took a step backwards and gave her a somber smile. Shepard couldn't summon the courage to return his smile. Anderson clasped his hands behind his back. "Are you ready for action, Commander?"

Shepard took a deep breath. She buried her exhaustion and anger and guilt deep inside. "I'm ready and able, sir."

"Then I won't lie to you, Shepard," Anderson sighed, "Things look bad."

Captain Anderson informed Shepard that after the geth had departed the system the Normandy SR-1 had assisted the remnants of the Second Frontier Division in search and rescue operations while Gunnery Chief Williams had organized the survivors. There were only two hundred men out of eight thousand dead or missing, and an estimated thirty thousand civilians as well. Now, they were inbound to the Citadel to explain that they had lost Nihlus Kryik and the Prothean Beacon, and a rogue Spectre was responsible.

"We failed, sir," Shepard said softly.

_I won't let that happen again. I have to be prepared. Anderson is right, Marines die. But they won't die because I fucked up. Not again._ Thousands of people were already dead but she knew that this was just the beginning. A war was coming.

"This is just the opening move, Shepard." Anderson growled. "Now it's up to us. We need to nail Saren Arterus, he's the man responsible for this."

"He's the one that killed Kryik," Shepard said.

Anderson nodded. "Saren is off the reservation, Commander. He's been the Council's top agent for a decade and that was bad enough. But now, he's started a private war on humanity."

"Why?" Shepard muttered, "We're at peace with the Hierarchy, sir."

Anderson let out a heavy sigh. "Saren lost his brother in the First Contact War and he wants revenge. More than that, he believes that humanity is a cancer that needs to be exterminated. Saren has always recommended doing something about it. After the First Contact War he argued that humanity should suffer the same fate as the krogan—quarantine and demilitarization."

"Never going to happen, sir."

"I agree, Shepard," Anderson said, "Thankfully, the Council has kept Saren on a close leash."

"Until now," Shepard said, "Do you think the Council is involved, sir?"

"I can't believe that. Intelligence should have caught something," Anderson shook his head, "Personally, I have to think that Saren is acting on his own, he's just moved his _real _agenda into the open. The real question is, why now? I believe it has something to do with that Beacon."

"The Beacon is important," Shepard said softly, "This is about more than Saren's vendetta against humanity. I saw something down there…" Shepard growled and then began to speak in a hoarse whisper, as if someone had punched her in the gut. "Just before I lost consciousness I had some kind of…damn it, some kind of vision. Doctor Chakwas said I had unusual brain activity, and I think it's the Beacon. Some sort of Prothean neural link. And it showed me…some kind of warning."

_Synthetics. Slaughter. War._ Shepard explained what she had seen in choppy, broken fragments, still trying to grapple with the slew of disgusting images. When she finished, breathing hard and feeling frustrated, Captain Anderson was staring at her with his eyes lidded. Her temples pulsed with pain. "Say something!" Shepard growled.

"Shepard..." Anderson shook his head from side to side. "If the Beacon is a warning we need to report this to the Council, Shepard. They need to know what Saren and the geth are planning "

"No! What are we going to tell them?" Shepard smiled mirthlessly, "I had a bad dream?"

Captain Anderson frowned. "I taught you better than that, Jane. No matter what they think of you, you have to do the right thing. This is important. This is lost prothean technology, some sort of message! Whatever it was, Saren has it. And if Saren wanted it we need to understand what it was. I know Saren, Jane. This attack wasn't random, he wanted the secrets of that Beacon and he used the geth to get it. If he's moved into the open, this is just the beginning. Saren won't stop until he's wiped humanity from the face of the galaxy!"

Shepard frowned. "The Alliance isn't ready to fight the geth, not with the kind of firepower they were packing on Eden Prime. If this is Saren's plan, I'll find some way to take him down, Captan, but!" Jane crossed her arms defiantly and tilted her chin, "We can't tell the Council or the Alliance about the Beacon. It sounds like I need a psychological evaluation. No one would believe me. You barely believe me!"

"I do believe you saw something, Commander," Anderson growled, "Whatever it was, it's dangerous. Hell, even if the Council doesn't believe you accessed some…some message, they need to know that Saren is pursuing Prothean Beacons and using the geth to do it. We need the Council to revoke his Spectre status before we can take him out."

Shepard shook her head, red hair swaying, "Then we convince the Council he's gone rogue without bringing up the vision from the Beacon, Captain." Jane stared at Captain Anderson. She fed the fear into the oven of anger in her heart and stoked the flames higher. "You can't do that to me, David! I'll be medically discharged, and you know it!"

Captain Anderson sighed and his shoulders slumped, "Damn it, Jane… Very well. I'll talk to Doctor Chakwas. We'll make sure that the report doesn't mention the specific of your vision, just the destruction of the Beacon and any information it contained. But we need to expose Saren, we need to."

"And we can do that more easily without compromising our case with crazy nightmares," Shepard retorted. "Captain."

"Agreed," Captain Anderson said reluctantly.

Jane uncrossed her arms. Her head was pounding and she was sick of feeling angry and bruised in equal measure. "Look, I need to clean up, I'm one big bruise. Is there anything else, sir?"

She stared evenly at her captain, watching his pitted face carefully. She met his concerned gaze with a sardonic smile. _There. _Finally, Anderson nodded, like a the buck of a horse, tired brown eyes flickering. "Nothing else, Commander. But I want you to remember that we may have just had one hell of a trial by fire, Jane, but we're still kicking. We're going to get back up and take the fight to the enemy, Commander. Are you with me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go get yourself cleaned up," Anderson said gently, "We should be approaching the Citadel and we're meeting with the Council in two hours."

Captain Anderson departed and Jane cradled her head in her hands. The Commander was ashamed to realize that a part of her mind was shying away from the terrible possibility revealed by the Beacon. Shepard was an N7. She knew just how fragile and dangerous the galaxy could be. The civilian world was blissfully ignorant of the dangers that lurked behind the facade of galactic power maintained by the Systems Alliance and the Citadel Council. Shepard, and Captain Anderson, had been trained their entire lives to prevent war. They fought piracy, terrorism, and insurgency. In their darkest moments, they planned for galactic conflict with the Hierarchy or the Terminus Systems.

But nothing could have prepared her for this vision of the future contained within the Beacon. Not the deadly jungles of Akuze or the blood-soaked snows of Elysium. It was like she was waiting for a target but she had failed to read the briefing. Shepard had been fighting for ten years, fighting in the trenches of a dozen brushfire wars and fighting her own superiors to stay in the field. Each promotion had given her more authority and, at the same time, greater responsibility. But she had always operated in the shadows of the N-Division, first in the Corsairs, and then in the field, alone or with small Interplanetary Combatives Teams. Now, Anderson had dragged her into the light. She had finally been promoted to Staff Commander and given a stack of paperwork as high as her head and she helped the captain run the ship, as well as leading the ground contingent. It was her duty, but Shepard didn't like it.

Shepard clutched at her head. It was too much. Anderson believed that she had the potential to be a great leader. Shepard wasn't so sure. She had always done best on her own, but she knew that, in the coming crisis, no one could stand alone. The Reapers were a threat to the entire galaxy. Thousands were already dead. And millions would have to die.

Her brain was sparking with a thousand painful fires and flickering inside the dark flames were the captured images of the fall of civilization. _Invasion. Destruction. Slaughter._

"I don't know if I can do this," Jane Shepard whispered.

She could hear a voice scratching at her ear. _Warn them…_ Jane Shepard knew that a war was coming and she had to do something. Shepard had to stop the extermination.

* * *

**Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**  
**2183.07.14**

A small alarm chimed and the holographic display flickered as D8971 became D8972.

"Next!"

Tali'Zorah took a deep breath and shuffled forward in line. She stood in a long aisle created by scratched-up transparent screens mounted between thick metal columns. The screens rose to just above her head, where small holo-cameras buzzed as they rotated back and forth on posts. At the end of her aisle was a series of sealed booths set into the thick metal wall. A neon-blue hologram on the wall read: CITADEL SECURITY CUSTOMS DIVISION.

Tali suppressed an insane giggle. She was on the run from ruthless killers from across the Terminus Systems and now she stood waiting patiently in line just like everyone else. _I should running, I should be screaming. I should be warning all these people about what's coming…_ Her giggles died. Unconsciously she patted the pouch on her belt containing the memory core.

Tali'Zorah knew that she was, in all honesty, lucky to be alive. After she had jettisoned from her ship she had passed out. The next thing she knew she was being hauled through an airlock into a tramp freighter. She had been protected by her enviro-suit from the vacuum long enough for a passing ship to detect her emergency beacon and scoop her up. For the first time in her life Tali was thankful that she was sealed inside her suit. It had saved her life.

The ship that had rescued her was the human freighter MSV Tambov, a second stroke of luck—humans were less likely to throw Tali out of the airlock when they discovered they had picked up a quarian. In fact, they had allowed Tali to work for her passage. She had tinkered with their engines and boosted efficiency slightly, but she hadn't mixed with the dozen other crew and passengers. She was too afraid of answering questions.

The MSV Tambov had taken her to Illium, where she had purchased a ticket to the Citadel on a run-down passenger liner, using most of her remaining Pilgrimage funds. She knew that bounty hunters were looking for her in the Terminus Systems and it was too risky to try to return to the Flotilla. Tali had thought that heading in the opposite direction would shake them off her tail, and, given what she had discovered on the memory core she needed to warn someone.

The more she had read, the more afraid she had become. The geth had emerged from the Veil for a reason. Tali had parsed the geth communications and deduced they were operating under the command of someone called Saren Arterius—to be precise, the geth designated him as Arterius/Saren-Organic-Mobile-Platform. In turn, Saren Arterius facilitated the commands of the Reapers. Geth communications recorded on the memory core were spliced with lines of foreign code, programs that Tali had never seen before and didn't understand. Recorded messages contained numerous references to the Old Machines. It seemed that the geth, in defiance of all logic, had found their gods—and their gods demanded the destruction of all organic life. Tali hadn't believed it at first, it seemed too preposterous, but the more she had investigated the more she had believed. Tali wanted to believe that the geth had made an error, that some glitch had crept into their higher functions and distorted their behavior, but she was an engineer and she didn't think that the geth were malfunctioning. Instead, they had made a decision, no, a leap of faith. Now, Tali knew that the Reapers were real, and the Council needed to be warned. They were the only ones who could do something.

The alarm beeped. D8973. "Next!"

Tali started. She stood in front of the booth. Trembling slightly she stepped onto the scuffed metal platform and saw a small window with an inset speaker. Behind the glass there was a uniformed C-Sec officer, a young human.

"Name, species, and ship, please." The C-Sec officer was looking at his computer.

"Uh, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya," Tali said, "Quarrian. MSV Yangon."

The human looked up and his chair squeaked. "Purpose of your visit to the Citadel?"

"I don't really know how to put this," Tali said, interlacing her fingers and then drawing them apart, "Um, I need to report a crime, I think."

The C-Sec officer stared at her. "Report a crime? On your ship, you mean?"

"No, not really," Tali was blushing now and she was glad for her visor, "It's more like piracy and treason to galactic civilization."

The speaker squealed and snarled. "What did you say?"

Tali scratched at the metal lip of her visor. "Uh, I want to report piracy and treason?"

"I...I think I better get my supervisor."

"You do that," Tali said with a tired smile.

* * *

"Let me get this straight. You're saying a human colony has been attacked by an army of mechs."

"An army of geth, you… They're geth! And they're working with organics!" Tali'Zorah growled and wrung her hands, "Look, we've been over this a hundred times. I want to talk to the Council. They need to see what's on the memory core."

Centurion Chellick leaned back in his chair and crossed his clawed hands, tapping one talon on the blue armor of his forearm. Tali sighed and planted her visor in her gloved hands. It was useless. She had been brought to the Central Precinct in Kithoi Ward and delivered to the Investigation Division, but the detective who had been assigned to interview her was a complete ass.

"You're claiming you have critical information on the…geth," Chellick's mandibles flicked, "And you're being pursued by…bounty hunters."

"Yes!" Tali said, twisting to show him the scorch marks on her armored shoulder, "I told you all of this. I said I can show you the memory disk—"

"I'm sure it's very convincing."

"Just look at it, trust me!" Tali said.

"Trust you?" Chellick gave a buzzing laugh, "You're a quarian."

Tali felt her eyes start to moisten and she shook her head angrily, _Don't cry, Tali! This isn't the time!_ "Please…I'm not making this up."

Chellick snorted. "Right. That's enough of this. Your request for protective custody is officially denied. I'm not even going to write down that you wanted to see the Council!" Laughing, the Centurion tapped at his computer, "You're visa is denied, we don't need more of your kind stealing our jobs. You have a day to find passage and vacate the Citadel or be detained for illegal entry."

"Please—"

"Officer!" Chellick raised a talon.

Tali was hauled to her feet. She shook herself free. "I can walk," she said, struggling to keep her voice from breaking.

"Drop this quarrian off outside the Lower Docks," the Centurion said. "Get out of here."

Despite her best efforts as she was escorted towards the door Tali felt tears slipping down her lilac cheeks.

* * *

**Sovereign, Interstellar Space, Exodus Cluster**  
**2183.07.14**

Matriarch Benezia glided down the corridor towards the heart of Sovereign.

The ship was disturbing to her eyes. The curving surfaces appeared oiled with some translucent fluid. The dark blue plates were disjointed, carved with cracks that exposed dark surfaces ribbed like fibers of muscle. The bulkheads were covered in pimples gleaming with pools of crimson light, and the corridors bent and turned without regard for thinking inhabitants. At the same time, there was no denying its technical profundity. Benezia didn't quite understand how it worked but she knew that the ancient craft was more powerful than any single dreadnaught in the Citadel Fleet. Its mass effect cores were distributed like a nervous system throughout its massive carapace and articulating arms, allowing it to adjust its velocity and trajectory minutely and land on a planetary surface. Its red heart burned with reservoirs of liquefied metals and polymers for use in self-repair and advanced weapon systems.

And then there was the sound. The constant background noise of the vessel; the sound of unimaginable numbers of parallel processors flickering and chittering like a hive of locusts that blacked out the sun, the sound of their infinite wings like the roar of the deepest, darkest ocean rushing in Benezia's ears.

Benezia was hearing the mind and heart of the Reaper. She walked inside it's arteries and veins, a parasite inside the ancient machine dedicated to the extermination of all organic life. Benezia could hear the roaring sound of that alien wave even when she left the ship now. It haunted her dreams, a deep roar that drowned out all other thought. She had to fight to maintain concentration. And, despite all she had sacrificed, despite how close she was to losing her free will completely…Benezia was still no closer to figuring out how it worked.

The Matriarch suppressed her disquiet thoughts as she approached the command center. She needed to inform Saren Arterius that the mission on Eden Prime had gone wrong, preferably without provoking his strained ire. The door hissed open and revealed the darkened command deck. Saren preferred the dim illumination after his eyes had been replaced with cybernetic sensors. The Matriarch was afraid that very little of Saren's organic body—or mind—remained. Her skin crawled as she peered into the gloom. She could just see the back of her master's head where Saren Arterius lounged on a steel throne.

Benezia stood very still and announced, "We identified the ship that touched down on Eden Prime. The Normandy, a human Alliance vessel. It was under the command of Captain Anderson. They managed to save the colony."

Saren didn't turn. He cradled his scarred jaw in a clawed hand. Cybernetic implants glinted in the wan light. "And…the Beacon?"

Benezia steeled herself. "One of the humans may have used it."

There was a single second of silence. Then Saren roared, a guttural sound of pure rage. His talons lashed out and dark objects went flying into the shadows. He turned on her with a feral light in his pitted eyed and Benezia tilted her head slightly to the side to avoid a hurled data-pad. Saren leaped across the deck and seized her neck. Benezia did not flinch.

Saren caressed her soft flesh with the tips of his talons. "This human must be…eliminated," Saren hissed, releasing her.

"As you wish," Benezia said, throat bobbing.

A drop of blue blood trickled down her throat.

Saren whirled and paced back and forth, heavy, enhanced limbs clicking. "The humans are vermin, Benezia. I cannot wait for the day when the Reapers will consume them..."

Benezia suppressed a shiver. She had heard this before. The scars of the First Contact War ran deep in Arterius and his hatred of the humans had tainted every step of his plan. He wanted to feed the humans to the Reapers and feast on their deaths, even if it meant betraying every ideal he had once stood for.

"I need more time, more information!" Saren hissed, slamming a fist against a glistening bulkhead. "It's too soon, if the humans interfere all were be ruined. We need the resources to seize the Citadel and control the Reapers return, control the Citadel Fleets… Only then can we choose which species are wiped out and which shall remain!"

The Matriarch knew it was madness but she kept her thoughts from showing on her face as she replied, "Do not worry, Arterius, we shall eliminate those who learnt of the beacon. We will find another."

"If you let me use your daughter," Saren whispered, "The...archaeologist…"

Benezia hid her fear and faked a sneer, "She is nothing but a disappointment. Her research is pathetic. Do you truly believe she has anything to offer? Let me find the next beacon and we will have enough information to find Conduit."

Saren's mandibles flickered once. "Very well…" he hissed, "I will wait, for now. But tell me, Benezia, what of the quarian? If she exposes our alliance with the geth, I will be forced to accelerate our plans."

"She will be found, Arterius. We retrieved her tool on Lattesh, they identified her identity and vessel. We have hired the best mercenaries to hunt her down. They are not connected to us. She will not escape."

"Yes, yes, the krogan..." Saren's silver eyes darted back and forth and his talons flexed and curled, "You're right…"

The Matriarch buried her relief carefully. She barely moved a muscle. "We are one step closer, Arterius. One step closer to bringing back the Reapers."

"They cannot be stopped, Benezia… They must be guided, they must be set on the right path…But they cannot be stopped." Saren seized his head with his claws, shaking it side to side. "Can't be stopped… Can't…"

"Of course," Benezia hastened to reassure him, "Be patient, Arterius, all will still go according to plan. Soon we will have an unstoppable army of geth and rachni. When we are ready we will seize the Citadel in a single strike!"

"Yes," Saren hissed, sitting heavily. His eyes glowed from between long talons, "Eden Prime was an adequate field test for the geth. They are ready."

A red flash burned into their eyes and Benezia barely restrained herself from flinching. As if summoned with his name, the mind of Sovereign flooded the front of the command center with a holographic representation of itself: two thousand meter carapace, four glowing red pincers, six undulating arms attached to its rippled, obsidian belly. "THE GETH ARE SYNTHETIC. THEY UNDERSTAND THE NATURE OF REALITY."

"Sovereign…" Saren hissed, his hands lowering and his mandibles going slack; Saren looked almost rapturous, staring into space.

"YOU DO NOT NEED THE RACHNI, SAREN. WE ALONE ARE SUFFICIENT TO FIND THE CONDUIT."

The sound… _The roar of the cold sea, the roar of thunder in frigid air, elongated, vibrating, drowning out all thought—_"No!" Benezia whispered, the word taking every ounce of her strength, "The rachni represent an opportunity to control the future of organic as well as synthetic life."

Benezia needed the rachni. If all else failed, the rachni constituted a organic counterweight to the geth forces corrupted and controlled by Sovereign. According to her research, with proper safeguards, the rachni's telepathic hive mind should be able to resist to the sinister energies of the cybernetic Reapers. Benezia buried these thoughts deep, hoping against hope that her secret plans went undetected. The survival of all organic life depended on her strength of mind. Life had to win the war.

She faced the holograph of Sovereign and spread her palms, but her words were truly meant for Saren, "Let me prove to you the value of organic soldiers."

Saren shook himself and sat upright, but his spine remained bent, like an old man. "Yes, Benezia is right, Sovereign, let us show you what we can do, show you how the galaxy can be remade! Let me complete my mission!"

Silence.

"VERY WELL. YOU MAY PROCEED."

* * *

**Codex: Alliance News Network/Breaking News/Eden Prime**

_ARCTURUS—Terror attack strikes Eden Prime. Contact was lost with the colony just eight hours ago. A new statement from the Office of the Prime Minister has confirmed that Eden Prime has been attacked by unknown forces: "I am here to inform the public that, as of six hours ago, it has become clear that Eden Prime was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and ground forces of unknown origin. The attack caused severe damage to the colony and, I regret to say, it appears that many Alliance civilians have been killed. At this time, the identity of these cowardly pirates is unknown. I want to reassure you all that I have directed the commanders-in-chief to take all measures for the defense of the Systems Alliance. The Alliance Parliament has declared a state of emergency and our naval forces are on high alert throughout Alliance Space. As I learn more I will inform the press. We will discover the origin of this despicable act of terror and, I assure you, we will respond in kind. Thank you. _[Updated 29-May-2016]


	7. Rejection and Reaction

**SSV Normandy, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**

**2183.07.14**

The meeting with the Council had been an unmitigated failure, but Shepard had seen the face of her target: Saren Arterius. Shepard slammed her fist into the punching bag with a grunt and her dog-tags ricocheted off her chest with a silver flash. _I will find him._

Shepard's ears pounded with the electronic music playing through her earbuds. Sweat poured down her body as she continued to work off her fury in the ship's darkened hold—her hands had been shaking when they returned to the Normandy, and Shepard needed a serious distraction. Despite Shepard's genetic and cognitive enhancements the mental repercussions of combat could never be completely ignored, in fact, her accelerated reflexes and augmented eyesight made certain memories sharper. She could still hear the snap and crack of bullets and the harsh ring of her breath echoing inside her helmet. She could remember the cold fire coursing through her bloodstream that made every icy second deep and clear and painful. She missed it.

There was a large part of Shepard that loved the cocktail of fear, fire, and fury. Feeling sick to her stomach, Shepard slammed her fist into the bag, delivering 10,000 newtons of force to the bag in a crack of thunder as reinforced bones and muscles whistled through the air. She wanted it to be an enemy. _Damn it, Jane, damn it!_

The Commander danced back from the bag and swiped a bottle from the top of a metal crate. She took a swig of TM86 whiskey and then slapped the bottle back down on the container. She wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist and breathed in the scent of sweat, blood, and adhesive. The tape on her knuckles was frayed and stained with dots of dark blood.

She was angry at herself. She was angry that she had lost men on Eden Prime. She was furious that Saren was going to get away with it, that she couldn't pound him into a broken pulp. Shepard tightened her fists and with a hoarse cry launched a fresh attack. Her tags slapped her chest as she launched a second punch. Two hexagonal identity discs were hung from around her neck. They glittered as they caught the thin beams from the lights mounted in the lockers along the wall. The rest of the cargo bay was abandoned and Shepard had deactivated the overhead illumination. Blue guidance lights gleamed around the doors, the edges of the walls, and the access to engineering. The Normandy was quiet and empty but for a skeleton crew. The remaining personnel had been given shore leave after their efforts assisting recovery operations in Eden Prime.

They had lost time helping the survivors, Shepard knew it. During those precious hours Udina had been struggling, and failing, to surmount the great wall of Council bureaucracy. Shepard ticked off their failures in her mind: the Council Committee for Interstellar Defence had already heard and rejected his request for Citadel reinforcements for human colonies; the Committee had rejected his request for access to Spectre files; the Committee for Citadel Intelligence had launched an investigation into reports of geth operations outside the Perseus Veil—and it was expected to take twelve months to produce its preliminary report.

_By that time we'll be old and dead_, Shepard wanted to spit. The Commander transitioned into a series of kicks, lashing out against the bag over and over.

Udina had secured one seeming success. The Council had agreed to meet with them and hear their testimony against Saren. But it had all been for nothing. They had prepared their testimony and transmitted videos from Eden Prime but the Council had not been prepared to hear it. Shepard knew that the Council had shut down the Citadel Security investigation before it had even begun. The Council didn't want an investigation. They didn't want to see the evidence. They had classified every scrap of information about Eden Prime.

The Council had rejected their accusations and accepted every lie and misdirection Saren Arterius had given them as sneered down from a holo-projector. Shepard had wanted to take out her assault rifle and lay waste to the elaborately manicured asari gardens and quiet arcades, just to wake them up, shake them out of their conceited stupor. With a sharp cry Shepard launched a furious assault that sent the punching bag creaking on its chain.

_The Council wants a formal apology for my 'libelous accusations' and 'illegal threats'? Fuck them. What do I care about intergalactic relations…_ Shepard chugged at the bottle, her throat convulsing as she swallowed the liquid fire. With a gasp Shepard released the bottle, a few drops dribbling down her chin. She hit the bag, bottle in hand, relishing the sting in her knuckles. _I should have said something. I should have kept trying—but they had made up their minds. It would have been a waste of breath. But I meant every word. He can't hide behind the Council forever. I will kill Saren the next time we meet. How was that for a threat?_

She dropped the bottle to the deck and her whole body went taut as she swung her fist upwards in a brutal uppercut, driving all the strength of her hips and core into the blow. The bag lifted on its chain and then fell back with a clang. Shepard's slitted eyes burned. She was done waiting for Citadel Security or Ambassador Udina to do the job. Captain Anderson was right. Shepard was going to have to find the evidence herself.

_I won't stop. Nihlus, Lee, and Jenkins gave their lives for this mission._ Shepard's chest was so tight she couldn't breath. With a supreme effort she let out a howl and launched herself into a series of hammering punches, her knuckles stinging, the music providing the beat. Jane let out a hoarse yell and seized the sides of the bag with her taped hands, driving her knee into the tough material over and over until the skin was scraped clean.

A voice whispered in the back of her head, escaping out of the fuzzy, warm mass of alcohol. Crimson memories oozed across her mind, visions of death and destruction. _Warn them… Warn them. Warn them!_

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Shepard yelled, and slammed her forehead into the bag.

The music grew distorted. Boom. Boom. Boom. Jane saw white spots dancing in front of her eyes and her body sagged. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweat-stained smell of the punching bag. She swayed as the bag tilted forward under her weight. _How am I supposed to stop what's coming? I don't want to see it anymore…_

"Commander?"

Boom. Boom. Boom. The voice was distant and muffled but she recognized Lieutenant Alenko.

Shepard winced. Her arms felt leaden. She raised her hands with great effort and removed her earbuds with unsteady fingers and pushed them back into a slot in her omni-tool bracelet. The world grew loud and hard and very close. Shepard opened and closed her mouth a few times before she could growl, "Why aren't you taking shore leave on the Citadel, Alenko?"

"I just got back, sir. Citadel sure is a big place."

Shepard peeled her sweat-streaked face away from the bag, tucked her tags inside her red-and-black N7 tank top, and turned to face the Lieutenant. Alenko's uniform was neat and pressed, as always.

"Forget something, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, ma'am, just need to get to my locker. How about you?"

Shepard rolled one shoulder and made an noncommittal noise.

Kaidan hesitated. "Kickboxing, Commander?"

Shepard glanced at the punching bag. "Yes, Lieutenant, I am. Anything else?"

Kaidan colored faintly. "Right, ma'am, sorry ma'am."

Shepard struggled to stay calm. "No, I'm sorry. It's not your fault. Bad day." She winced as she started peeling the tape off of her hands, "You should get going, Lieutenant."

"Yes, ma'am," Kaidan said, hesitating, "The Council is wrong, ma'am. I'm sorry they treated you like that."

It took all of her energy to nod. Reluctantly, Kaidan moved around her and opened up his personnel locker and began putting neatly folded clothing in his bag. Shepard stared at him for a moment and fought with herself. She was supposed to say something, she knew that. _There. _"Kaidan, thank you. For your concern."

"Your welcome, ma'am. I will bring the Marines to the briefing at 0600?"

"Roger that—" Shepard's eyes jerked to the side at a sudden rustling sound, like someone was touching the hairs on the back of her head: _warn… warn… God. I'm going insane._

"Are you…okay, Commander?"

"Minor scrapes, Lieutenant. Nothing serious. You're dismissed, Lieutenant."

"I… Aye-aye, ma'am."

Shepard waited until the sound of Kaidan's retreating footsteps had faded away. She clenched and unclenched her fingers—they felt like thick, dull bands of heated metal.

_Warn…them… _

Shepard sunk her bare knuckle into the bag with a hoarse cry of anger.

* * *

Shepard sat alone in the dark, ate a protein pack, and drank a gallon of nutri-ade in the deserted mess. Her head was spinning slightly. Her limbs were leaden with fatigue but her heart was still fluttering like caged bird. When she was done Shepard chucked the empty canisters in the recycler and then made her way back to her quarters. With shuddering fingers she tapped the access panel to the Senior Officers Quarters and stepped inside. The lights sparked into life and revealed the spartan interior: bare walls of blue metal, the white polymer chair and desk with a folded computer, closed compartments inside the bulkheads. She shared the small chamber with Lieutenant-Commander Charles Pressly and Greg Adams, the Chief Engineer. They rotated through the two bunks separated by a six-inch strip of deck. Pressly and Adams had attached their degrees and commendations to the wall in plastic frames while Shepard's wall was empty. On the desk were three in/out boxes for their data-pads—Shepard's contained a pile of paperwork and requisition forms, as well as information Shepard had downloaded from the Naval Intelligence Codex containing research on the geth and the protheans.

Shepard stared at her bunk and the folded sheets. She wasn't tired, and, more than that, she didn't want to go to sleep. She was worried about what she would see if she closed her eyes, afraid of what she had seen in the darkness on Eden Prime. _I have to warn them, but they'll think I'm crazy. Maybe I am crazy. Yesterday, I thought we'd be going after pirates and slavers. Now, I think the entire galaxy is in danger from an ancient army of machines because of the beacon. Yep. I'm definitely crazy._

But she didn't lie down on the bed. She turned on her heel and started pacing back and forth from the top of her bunk to the door. It took her four steps. Then four steps back.

_Concentrate. Saren is the target. Stop Saren, stop the Reapars. See, it's going to be super easy!_ Jane snorted. She fiddled with her tags and closed her eyes, only to open them rapidly, blinking to erase an image of seas of blood and mechanical pincers… _Keep concentrating. There has to be a way to expose Saren. I just have to find the evidence._

She was the commander of a squad of special forces operators trained in infiltration, intelligence, and assault. Shepard could do this. She just couldn't find the right pressure point. But she just couldn't think straight. Her thoughts were a total mess; she could hear a distant scraping sound, like someone was scratching at her door. Sweat was beading on her forehead. Jane growled and scraped a hand across her face and nose and left her hand there like a claw, nostrils fluttering and hot breath warming her palm. _Think, damn it!_ Images of flesh and machines, ripping and tearing. _Stop it!_

Her breath was coming in ragged gasps.

"You really need to talk to someone, Jane," Shepard panted.

But she couldn't. She couldn't talk to Captain Anderson or Doctor Chakwas—both were obligated to report her condition to the Alliance and her career would come to a screeching halt. Jane knew that Anderson and Chakwas would never do that to her, but that made it worse; if she confided in them, they would be forced to keep more of her secrets, and that would risk their careers as well as hers. She couldn't do that to them. That left her with few options, none of them good. Alenko was her subordinate and seemed like stickler for the regulations, Lee was dead, and everyone else would think she was insane. Shepard knew that her safest best was a civilian doctor on the station, but she shoved the thought aside. She didn't want someone poking around in her head. Besides, Jane rationalized, she had other priorities. Like saving the galaxy.

Shepard paced to her desk and flicked a button on her stereo. Loud music began to play, echoing inside her small room. Waves of sound drowned out the scratching noise in her ears. She sat down at the desk and sprayed Medi-Gel on her ripped-up knuckles. She knew that the Doc would kill her for not using barriers and the thought brought a small smile to her lips. But without the adrenaline rush of the beating she had delivered to that poor unsuspecting punching bag the smile faded quickly. The fire was gone. Leaving only angry ashes and a splitting headache.

She removed her small back-up pistol from a locked compartment. She checked the magazine and removed the metal block, setting it on the desk with a solid clunk and a twinge of pain from her battered fingers. Her trembling fingers ran along the red metal of the Stinger.

Shepard wiped at her forehead. She raised the pistol and sited down the barrel, tilting her head. Dark red hair kissed her shoulder. She pulled the trigger and an empty click sounded from the gun. Her gun hand began to shake. Shepard tried to control it and couldn't as the shakes grew stronger, the gun starting to waver in a wider and wider circle—"Fuck!"

Shepard threw the pistol across the room into the wall; it hit with a clang and fell to the floor with a thud. With a second cry she swept her leaden arm across the desk sending data-pads raining onto the deck and clattering off the bulkheads.

Breathing hard, a noise escaped Shepard's lips, something close to a whimper. _Pull it together, Shepard,_ she spat to herself. She clutched at her tags and dragged them out of her shirt. She turned the two metal disks over in her fingers. She hadn't felt like this since…Akuze, and then Elysium. After Akuze it had been the nightmares. Honestly, she still had them occasionally. Elysium had brought it all back. All of the questions about everything, her family, her past, her missions. She had been dragged into the spotlight and hosed down by the press.

Shepard rubbed her finger across her tag, feeling the embossed number and letters on the discs. Shepard closed her eyes. _Come on. You got this one, Shepard. This one you can change. Rise to the task you have been given._

It was something Anderson had told her a long time ago. She clung to the words like a life-raft and began to breathe more easily. she would get the job done. Break it down into pieces and take it one by one.

Suddenly, Jane felt something wet touch the top of her lip. She frowned, wrinkling her nose, and raised two tingling fingers to her lip and rubbed at her nose. When she withdrew her hand, her fingers were red with blood.

_We rise to the tasks we are given. Or we die trying._

* * *

**Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**  
**2183.07.15**

Tali'Zorah careened around a corner and barely avoided a stack of metal crates. They toppled over and one metal box clipped her right hip. She was glad for the padding on her enviro-suit but the impact still sent into her into a spin and she let out a gasp pain as hot fire radiated out from her other side.

Tali stumbled to one knee and a flash of light and nose ripped through the air where her head had been, burning through the cloud of steam and industrial fumes that hung in the alley like a fog.

Tali threw herself behind a fallen crate with another thunderbolt of pain in her side. A second later a blast of impactor rounds score the spraycrete floor beside her. Chips banged on her shields and across the walls of the alley. The quarian raised her Edge pistol to her chest, panting in ragged gasps, waiting to return fire. She pressed her hand to her right side where she had been shot a few minutes prior. Sticky dark red blood had stained the wrap of purple cloth around her waist. Her enviro-suit had sealed the site of the wound, but she had no Medi-Gel to alleviate the pain or restore her blood. Thankfully it had only been a graze just above her hip. One more centimeter and the impactor would have torn a hole in her side.

A harsh voice rang down the alley, "Where are you, quarian? You can't hide in the smog forever!"

Another gun roared and a wash of fire raced past Tali. Tali whimpered inside her visor. The holographic display was crowded with glowing windows flashing with crimson alerts and Tali's head spun. _Ugh!_ She pressed a button with a shaking hand, clearing her display, and looked around for anything that could help.

The low ceiling was dense with piping and conduits. She looked at the wall, where a stained asari glyph was rendered unreadable by a missing panel of spraycrete, revealing the wall of the station beneath and the geometric pattern of dots inscribed by the original builders. There was a standard sliding door a few meters down the alley—and that gave Tali an idea.

"You should never have come here, quarian, not with the bounty on your head! Every hunter in the Wards is on your keel, rat! You're dead now!"

Tali bit back an angry retort, _Don't give away your position, that would be dumb, Tali._ Y_ou need to put your cunning plan into action! Come on!_

With shaking fingers Tali opened up a hacking program on her omni-tool and aimed the laser communicator at the holographic control to the door, identifying its unique code and locking on.

"Come out! Don't make me go in there," the turian screeched, "It will be worse for you, you little bitch!"

Footsteps boomed on the panels that covered the white bones of the station. Tali's wound track throbbed as she slid along the stained wall towards the door; she continued to type, her fingers dancing over the controls. "Come on, Tali'Zorah, come on…"

Tali reached the edge of the door and planted a damping mine with trembling hands before sending a signal to the door. It opened with a hiss, sending billows through the cloud of smog.

The mercenary roared, "There you are!"

Tali threw herself through the open door and scrambled forward on her plated knees. She looked behind her just as the bounty hunter stepped through the door. The mine exploded in a wave of electrical sparks. The holographic panel on the door flashed orange and the door snapped shut like a vise. Tali screamed as the turian's shotgun jerked and another blast flew over her head. Then the doors squashed the turian between them and he let out an unimaginable sound of horror—Tali heard the squealing pop of the armored shell compressing, and then a wet crunch.

Tali's pistol fell out of her hand and she pushed herself backwards to the wall—she retched and she forced herself not to vomit in her helmet. The rebreather whirred, utterly calm and normal.

Dark blood was leaking out of the popped armor and pooling on the floor. The orange holographic control flickered and sparked on top of the body. It was an organic. A living being. Tali clutched at her throat and groaned.

"Come on…" Tali said to herself. "It… he…was trying to kill you! He shot you. You _had _to do it!"

Tali stood, biting her lip as a tremor of pain shook her whole body, and stared down the alley, similar to the one she had just vacated but taller and wider. "You had to do it, Tali'Zorah, now you have to move… have to…"

After Decian Chellick had ordered her to leave the station Tali had been escorted back to the docks in Kithoi Wards, but she hadn't taken passage on a ship. First, she couldn't afford it. Second, she still needed to save the galaxy. It was really annoying. Tali had returned to the Lower Wards and holed up in a cheap hostel. Using their terminal she had submitted her data to the C-Sec tip-line. A few hours later the bounty hunter had shown up and Tali had barely escaped.

Tali shook her head, trying to clear it of the panicked, ricocheting thoughts, to no avail. She had figured out that Saren must have connections to the Council and access to the Citadel Security computer systems. She felt stupid, wrung out, and tired. And, though she didn't know how she could think about it, but she was incredibly hungry for real quarian food. The galaxy was strange. Maybe she could just lie here and think about how hungry and tired she was. _Come on. You have to keep moving. _Tali groaned and patted at her battered suit with her free hand, "Alright, alright... Where did my pistol go…"

She fingered the scoring on her armor, shuddering. Tali's head swam as she looked down at her side. Dark circles of blood seemed to follow the spirals on her silk wraps, whirls of red drops raining down in a purple sky. "Oh, Ancestors, that makes my head hurt…" Tali whispered.

The deck plates receded into infinity, small lights flashing. Tali retched again, but then her hand found something solid.

"There's my pistol…" Tali whispered, and bent to pick it up, swearing at another strike of pain to her side. "C-Sec tried to confiscate you," she stroked the pistol, "But I'm not some criminal, no!"

Pistol in hand Tali began to stumble down the alley, away from the dead turian. He was the latest bounty hunter. She guessed that he had picked up her trail when she purchased dextro-rations in the lower markets—it was that or starve, because she couldn't eat the contaminated food. He had pursued her into the warren of ducts and repair corridors and hadn't let up. Over the past day she had been forced deeper and deeper into the Wards. Now, she was lost, and she needed medical treatment.

The Citadel was immeasurably vast to Tali'Zorah—the entire population of the Migrant Fleet would fit comfortably into just one district of a single arm. The amount of underused space confused Tali. There were empty halls, arcing balconies, the sealed air-car tunnels. The asari had rediscovered the Citadel over 2600 years ago, and they had built their towers and columned halls in twisting asari patterns atop the ancient grid maintained by the keepers. Pink and purple asari flora flourished beneath artificial light while murmuring fountains graced the concourses with aromatic mists. The silent Keepers were slowly trained, like beasts of burden, to operate in and around the cities of their new tenants.

The Wards corridor swirled with billows of orange. Tali stumbled and put a hand on the grey spraycrete wall. Her thick fingers left a dark trail along the smooth surface. Something banged and rattled further down the alley and Tali gasped. She raised her other hand, pistol trembling slightly. She paced forward slowly, her toe-pads pressed to the metal plates. She blinked, trying to clear a funny, wavering light from her eyes. _M__aybe my visor is acting up again…you know, something like that…_

The garbage chute banged again and a rank smell came from a rent in the metal plates. The rusted metal was streaked with waste. "Just garbage," Tali breathed, lowering her pistol with a wince. Her right side was burning hot. "Keeper needs to repair that… Keeper needs…to clean up the bodies… Good proteins, very efficient, just like the Flotilla. Into the vats!"

Tali laughed and that hurt, a lot, so she retched again.

There were endless bubbling tanks of fabricators and protein vats buried in the hull of the station, providing the Council with unlimited manufacturing power to sculpt the surface of the Citadel. They factories operated far below them on the spaceward side of the station. Tali wished that her people could witness the awe-inspiring sight of thousands of gas-sifters and asteroid miners bringing the raw materials to the Citadel to be processed… If the quarians had the Citadel at their disposal, they could have rebuilt the entire fleet twice already. "No time to rebuild the Fleet," she mumbled, "Need to find the med clinic first..."

She peeled herself off the wall, swearing at the sudden stabbing pain in her side. Tali rounded the end of the alley and a door hissed open, revealing a long, red-lit tunnel filled with air scrubbers and strange nooks and steps. She stumbled down the stairs.

"Stairs on a space station, so many stairs, it's stupid!" she growled. "Ouch!"

The red air seemed to thicken and waver in front of her eyes. She forged her way through it, pulse increasing, and then passed through another door. She emerged on the other side of the maintenance corridor and saw a Citadel Public Transit station and the illuminated hatch that led down to a air-car tube. The gleaming holographic icon wavered in her vision and Tali scrubbed at her visor. She drew closer and scanned the terminal, "Presidium, Citadel Security—_bosh'tets_—Central Archives, really!?" She linked her omni-tool and scanned rapidly. "There, med-clinic, confidential, certified in quarian medicine, Upper Market. Was that so hard? Who programmed you?"

Tali groaned and bent slightly, and then straightened, "Two hundred credits? You rich asari bitches..."

Tali paid the price, and watched the last of her funds dwindle. Almost immediately the air-car access shaft opened. Avina's voice echoed down the tube, "Please board your vehicle. Thank you for using Citadel Public Transit. Please board your vehicle."

The ride to the medical clinic passed in a blur of noise and colour. Tali suspected that she was passing in and out of unconsciousness. Under other circumstances she would program herself an injection of stimulants but she was so close to the clinic that she didn't want to have any drugs in her system. So, when the air-car lurched to a halt she cried out in pain and swore at Avina as the VI announced in a cheerful tone, "You have arrived at your destination!"

Tali threw open the hatch and painstakingly lowered herself onto the landing pad. A helpful mech unfolded from an alcove and guided her inside the white plastic-paneled chamber. She had made it.

* * *

**Codex: Humanity and the Systems Alliance/Genetic Engineering/Enhancement**

_In the years before first contact, human genetic research was quite advanced. However, after making first contact with the turians and joining the Citadel, there were concerns that such modifications might lead to Earth's unique biodiversity being lost, so the Alliance Parliament passed the Sudham-Wolcott Genetic Heritage Act in 2161, leading to strict controls on genetic modification. As current law stands, modification of natural abilities is legal, but acquisition of new ones is not. For example, using gene therapy to increase muscle mass is legal, but adding the ability to digest cellulose is not._

_Some genetic enhancement is provided for free to Alliance military recruits, while the average citizen must pay for the privilege. The process can take years to reach fruition in a recruit however, once complete, Alliance soldiers are provided with increased muscle mass, skeletal reinforcement, heightened senses, and improved pulmonary and cardiovascular efficiency, while recruits into the N7 program are rumored to receive even more genetic and surgical enhancement. Extensive training and cognitive behavioral therapy is required to learn to control these improved abilities. Recruits who achieve proficiency with their enhancements quickly are often selected for increased training and minor cybernetic modification. Modification of the ocular nerve and adrenal gland allow for brief bursts of high-speed situational processing, an ability known in the Alliance Marines as "bullet time."_

_In the ongoing arms race against alien races and unmanned combat mechs genetic enhancement is essential to maintaining humanity's position in the galaxy. _[Updated 29-May-2016]


	8. Target Acquisition

**Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**

**2183.07.15**

The waiting was the worst.

The interior of the rented van reeked of air freshener and cleaning supplies. Shepard hunched over the controls and listened to the hum of the communicator. Her head felt like an anvil that had been attacked by a hydraulic press. Last night she had dreamt about Eden Prime and the Prothean Beacon. Flashes of green lightning had riven through dark skies raining blood onto the dead earth below. She had woken in the middle of the night with a nosebleed and ravenous hunger. She knew she should go to Dr. Chakwas, but Jane didn't want to be put under a microscope or, worse, recalled to Arcturus Station for medical testing. She knew that Alliance Xenoresearch would love to get their hands on her brain. But Shepard couldn't risk being locked up in a laboratory while Saren was on the loose. He had killed her Marines. Of course, he was also trying to destroy galactic civilization.

For now, they waited.

Three armored marines sat on metal benches in the back. Shepard was in the front separated from her men by a plastic grill. Her omni-tool displayed a blue holographic map. Flashing icons represented the members of her team in the field—Shepard had sent Alpha Squad out into Kithoi Ward to search for leads, sniffing around the Security Precincts, the bars, the brothels, and the docks. They were looking for the investigator, Garrus Vakarian. The Council was trying to bury his investigation, and it was up to Shepard to dig it back up. At the same time, Captain Anderson and Lieutenant Alenko were exploring more refined leads in the Presidium. But for now, Shepard waited in the van. Her hands tightened on the throttle. She wanted to be in the field but instead she knew it was smarter to stay on the radio and coordinate the rapid reaction force. And she hated it.

Shepard glanced through the plastic divider at her marines. There was Private First Class Shay. He was a veteran who had served a dozen tours in the Verge and now filled Jenkins boots as acting corporal. Next to him was Private First Class Laflamme. The Frenchman was a rifleman and, in the tradition of soldiers since the dawn of time, he was asleep with his head resting on the stock of the rifle held between his knees. Finally, Private Second Class Jing Hsaio. She was their youngest member, attentive and competent. A tarnished medallion hung from her hands, swaying from side-to-side with the movement of each wooden bead through her fingers as she prayed to Saint Michael the Archangel, Patron Saint of Soldiers.

Despite the fact that they had lost Jenkins and Lee on Eden Prime, the Normandy Marines were primed and ready for action. Alpha Team was a tough military machine. Shepard just had to keep the machine oiled and intact. Still, no matter what she did, it was a fact that everyone had a bullet with their name on it. A cosmological constant. Nihlus Kryik had learned the truth with a bullet to the head: ultimately, it was raw chance who lived and died. All she could do was improve their chances, because despite the odds against them, it was Shepard's job to put a finger on the dice and make some luck. She knew that one day her bullet would arrive, but until then, she would keep fighting. It was what she was good at, it was her job—the only hard part was trying to keep everyone else alive.

The Commander's omni-tool flashed and Shepard's eyes locked on the message from Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. The jury was still out on Williams. Shepard empathized with Williams, the woman had lost her entire company, and other any other circumstances she would forgive the consequent bad attitude. The problem was whether or not Ashley could swallow her pride and work with the team. This was a good sign, however. A dark smile spread across Shepard's face. Ashley Williams had found Garrus Vakarian.

* * *

"If they had just given me more time," Garrus Vakarian said, his mandibles flickering too fast for the human eye to follow, "I know I could have gotten that bastard."

Garrus' talons tightened around a glass of dextro-beer. The Cutting Edge Bar resounded with the clicks and buzzes of turian speech. The Cutting Edge was a C-Sec establishment, located two corridors down from the lift to the Presidium ring, so the majority of the customers were turians. There were, however, two asari agents surrounded by a ring of admirers in a booth on the left, and three humans sitting at the bar. The metal doorway was adorned with the geometrical slashes of turian characters and a tube of blue neon lighting and figural representations of the standard-issue Elkoss Combine Edge pistol.

Decian Chellick chirped disdainfully. "Really Garrus?"

Garrus glanced at his former partner. Chellick had wide mandibles painted with narrow white streaks and a long jaw-plate with three white arrows. His muscular crest flicked. He cradled a tube of bright green liquid the same colour as his small eyes. "You don't think I could have done it?" Garrus growled.

"You? Take down Saren Arterius? Come on."

"He's dirty, Chellick, I know he is, you've heard the stories," Garrus said, "You should have heard the way he talks. He refused to come to the Citadel for an interview, the arrogant worm."

"He's a Spectre, no, wait, he's the Spectre. The right hand of the Council." Chellick repeated dryly. "Like you had a chance. What did Executor Pallin say?"

"He said he had his orders, then he told me to get out of his office!" Garrus snorted, "The Council cut our claws, Chellick. We were never supposed to get him."

"That's all it was?"

Chellick's plates danced with mirth and Garrus sighed. "Thanks. You're being really helpful, you know that?"

"You're just jealous of my mandibles."

Garrus gave a short laugh, but it died after a moment, and his hand tightened on his drink. He sipped at his beer. _The Council didn't want me to find anything on Saren Arterius, but I know he's guilty. I can feel it in my gizzard. If I could have gotten into the Archives… But I never even had a chance. More concerned about their precious image and the damn regulations._

"You willing to hear about my week now that you've griped enough?" Chellick grumbled.

"Yeah, yeah," Garrus waved a taloned hand. "You know we used to catch up more than once a week.

"I know. It's been a tough rotation."

"Right," Garrus said, "Not to mention you're gunning for Legate now. That's keeping you real busy."

"Shut up," Chellick said, "So I'm pulling desk duty. If you actually played by the rules you'd be on my level, Vakarian!"

Garrus's mandibles tightened into his jaw and jammed up and down, indicating his frustrated irritation. It was true, they had used to be on the same level of their residential complex, but that was before Decian had been promoted. Garrus was a Centurion Rank I, while Decian was a Centurion Rank VII and lived three floors above Garrus in the strictly regimented turian housing pyramid. Garrus sighed. "Right, right. So, your week? What happened?"

"I've been dealing with smuggling and immigration, you know that," Chellick swirled his drink, "Drugs, illegals, weapons, coming in on every damn ship."

"Yeah, now more than ever."

"It's the damn humans!" Chellick growled, "They're so…industrious."

Garrus coughed. "Well, we had enough trouble with barefaces and asari long before the humans arrived. What about the salarians?"

"Humans are worse," Chellick sneered, "You can't trust 'em, Garrus. You don't know how they'll act."

Garrus sighed and tried to set Chellick's new attitude aside for the moment. "So you had trouble with some…human?"

Chellick chuckled, "Nah, not really. This was different. Some idiot in Customs sends me a quarian who hitched a ride on a human ship. She was trying to get protective custody. You know how it is, those vagrants will say anything to get onto the Citadel. That's just what we need, more bottom feeders!" Chellick laughed again. "Can you believe what she told me? That she had a geth memory core with critical information for C-Sec."

"Geth! This is too much of a coincidence," Garrus eyes widened, _The human ambassador said that geth attacked their colony, and now a quarian shows up with a geth memory core?_ "Chellick, what information was on the memory core?"

"It was all lies, Garrus!" Chellick said, "Wanted to see the Council of all things. I give her warning, tell her to get her dirty ass off the station, you know how it is. But get this, the next thing I know I get a call from someone in Intelligence. They say to keep a talon on the pulse and let them know if she shows up again, so I put out a request for information on female quarians on the 'net."

"Did she show up again?" Garrus demanded.

"Yeah, I was getting to that! A patrol down in the Lower Wards finds quarian blood and a dead bounty hunter."

"Quarian blood? Did they check the hospitals?"

"I punted it down to the Kithoi Prefect, it was in his Ward," Chellick grunted, "At this point I hope she crawls into the protein vats and dies. She's like bad plate barnacles, Garrus. I don't want this hanging around my cowl."

Garrus was barely listening. "If she's not in the hospital it would have to be the Med Clinic. I have to go, Chellick."

"What, come on, Garrus, I listened to you complain for hours!"

"Next time, partner," Garrus said, "This is important!"

As he swiped his credit chip Garrus looked across the bar and saw one of the humans watching him. Garrus rattled his mandibles and glared, and the human buried her face in her drink. Garrus knew they were supposed to all be in the black-and-blue together, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the woman had been eavesdropping on his conversation; she was sitting with a second woman who was wearing Alliance fatigues. Garrus didn't recognize them but he made sure to memorize their faces. Garrus shook his head and started for the door. He tapped his earpiece, "Dispatch, this is Centurion Vakarian!"

* * *

Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams paid for her unused drink and got up to follow Garrus Vakarian. She weaved around the agents crowding the bar, surprised at how quiet it was—the buzzing speech never rose above the level of a cordial conversation. Ashley exited the bar and stepped out into the lightly crowded concourse. Her plan had paid off. She had convinced several human C-Sec agents to let her accompany them to the C-Sec bars. She had found Garrus Vakarian, and she had been able to eavesdrop on his conversation. Now they were heading to the Med Clinic. She scanned the mass of aliens trying to pick out her quarry. After a brief search she spotted the target's blue armor. _Good thing too because they all look the same._

She let the turian have a long head-start and then followed him into the crowd. People got out of her way as she strode purposefully down the wide street. Her elbows and swinging arms sent nervous salarians scattering, and her heavy scowl pushed the asari to the side. Ahead of her, the turian agent was moving into the mass of aliens. There were barely any humans on the station and it made Ashley's skin crawl. Even the light was just wrong; the violet illumination of the nebula shone through the slanting crystal windows that looked out over the glittering city-station. Ashley shook it off and moved towards the curving wall and ducked into an alcove that contained public extranet terminal, ignoring it, she tapped her omni-tool. "Alpha One this is Alpha Three, I have a target."

Commander Shepard's voice came back to her instantly. "Copy that, Alpha Three, we received your transmit and are already moving in. Move to the Upper Concourse and converge on Alpha Seven immediately."

"Roger, out," Ashley replied.

Ashley still wasn't used to Commander Shepard's hard edges. But the Commander had integrated Ashley into the squad and Ashley was both grateful and exhausted, not to mention extremely frustrated that the Council had completely ignored them. The Commander had decided to find the evidence on her own and Ashley had been the first to volunteer. This was her chance to prove herself—Captain Anderson had pulled some strings to get her reassigned to the Normandy, and Ashley knew she had been given an enormous opportunity. Ashley wanted to find something to get the mission back on track and find the alien scum responsible for killing her Marines on Eden Prime. Ashley suppressed a sudden flash of memory, a clicking, wailing noise… Ashley thought about Jane Shepard. Unblinking eyes. A fringe of straight red hair hiding a scarred forehead. The Commander moved so fast it was like watching a training simulator pushed beyond human limits. On Eden Prime, Shepard had saved all their lives. But when Ashley had reported for duty aboard the Normandy, the Commander had been mechanical and distant.

Ashley shook herself and turned to the task at hand. checked her omni-tool and found oriented herself on the holo-map before moving back into the crowd. She was supposed to rendezvous with Alpha Seven, Private First Class Monica Negulesco—a bulky brawler who swore like a sailor and dressed like a hooker.

As she walked the Gunnery Chief kept one eye on the turian's scaly head, twenty meters ahead of her, and made sure to weave around advertising columns and public terminals, pausing to seemingly take in the sights. Ashley continued to trail the turian down the gleaming staircases leading from the upper levels towards the Wards. Her omni-tool chimed when they reached the Upper Concourse, where the Med Clinic was located, and Williams fell back and rendezvoused with Negulesco. The Marine was wearing an ODU and had a head full of loose brown curls. She was leaning on the railing of the concourse and watching the crowds. Ashley also spotted a man she recognized as Private Second Class Fredricks, Alpha Four, who was wearing civvies and sitting on a metal bench.

Ashley drifted towards them, pretending to ignore Fredricks, and sidled up to Negulesco. The Marine had sparkly pink lipstick, shadowed eyes, and curly brunette hair. She nodded. "Hey. Wouldn't you know, you were right. Target's entered the Clinic."

"Roger that," Ashely said.

"Lighten up. We finally got you out of that pink Sirta armor," Negulesco winked. "Now you don't look like some bullshit holo-poster for girls-in-uniform."

Williams stiffened. She was concerned that Shepard had given her men too much leeway. "Watch it, Negulesco, I'm—"

"Stop right the fuck there, newbie," Negulesco drawled, "Call me Alpha Eight, roger?"

Ashley's face darkened with embarrassment, "Sorry. Right."

"You've been through a fucking lot," Negulesco said comfortably, "But you better get your fucking shit together fast or your going to get your brains blown out. This ain't no place for slow learners, newbie. Still, you did good fucking work tagging the target and getting us this location."

Ashley's face burned. In that moment she was painfully aware that, despite her rank, she was the greenest member of Alpha Squad.

"Well, newbie, we got any other leads?"

Ashley grunted, irritated but reluctantly grateful that Negulesco had changed the subject. She knew that Lieutenant Alenko had been assigned to investigate Barla Von, a financial advisor in the Presidium with some shady connections. The Lieutenant sure had the polish to hobnob with the rich and powerful. Ashley snorted. "Maybe. Alpha Two's chasing down some numbers in the Financial District, something way above my pay grade."

Negulesco nodded thoughtfully. "Fucking-A. Maybe personal accounts, or market fluctuations around the time of Eden Prime? If someone had advance warning they could've made a lotta fucking dough. We get names, we find those rich bitches, and rip them a new fucking asshole and take a peek where the sun don't shine. See what they know."

Ashley stared at the other Marine. She was reminded that despite her mouth and her appearance, Private Negulesco was an accomplished N6. Ashley was an N4 but, unfortunately, she hadn't completed N-School, after breaking her legs in a training accident and being shuffled into garrison duty. Now Negulesco was rubbing it in her face. Before she could decide what to say Ashley's earbud chirped and she almost jumped out of her skin.

"We're moving in," Shepard announced on the radio, "Alpha Five and Six, watch the lower exits. Alpha Three, your unit takes the concourse exit."

"Roger, that, Alpha One," Ashley said.

She flicked her eyes back to Negulesco and then spoke quietly into her omni-tool pick-up. "Alpha Seven, take the right flank. Alpha Four, take the concourse, I'll take left flank."

"Roger that," Negulesco nodded, obeying her instantly.

She flicked her curly hair, and then faded into the crowd. Ashley took up a position next to an advertising column, one hand hovering above her pistol. Fredricks stayed on the benches aimed at the concourse. Williams took a deep breath and tried to relax as she walked over to a Public Transit station with a landing pad and a series of parked air-cars. Ashley didn't expect anything to happen, they were in the middle of a populated concourse. _But if something happened I can handle it,_ she told herself, ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, the smell of copper in her nostrils. She shook herself. Negulesco's words echoed in her head. She would keep up. She could keep up. She was a Marine. Ashley pretended to study the Citadel Public transit console, one eye on the door to the Med Clinic, as she waited for Garrus Vakarian to make his move.

* * *

Garrus strode through the doors to the Med Clinic and drew his pistol, dropping into a crouch. His visor swung into place over his left eye with a whine as his icy eyes flickering around the interior of the white lobby: the receptionist mech behind the counter was smoking slightly and the plastic window was stained with electrical burns and streaks of hydraulic fluid. Next to the window the holographic lock sparked orange on the frosted glass doors leading deeper into the clinic.

Garrus mandibles danced like a hummingbird's wings. _Can't wait for backup. Not if I want this quarian to live at least. Whoever I'm up against, looks like they must have access to C-Sec communications if they found this place at the same time I did.  
_

Garrus raised his pistol and stalked towards the door, using one hand to enter a command into his omni-tool. The doors flashed green and opened slightly, but Garrus had deactivated the audio alert to avoid alerting anyone inside. Garrus slid into the gap, staying low, and tilted his head. Garrus' visor buzzed with information.

An enormous krogan in thick plates of crimson armor loomed over the human doctor. Four humans in fatigues the color of dried blood paced around the clinic, armed with an assortment of guns. The interior of the Med Clinic was a elongated oval chamber with divided down the center by a white spraycrete partition. Medical beds lay along the far wall between glossy white columns and a surgical mech hung from the ceiling like a fat plastic spider. None of the humans were on Garrus' side of the chamber, so the turian crept forward, staying low, and took cover behind the partition.

The krogan was growling, "…tell me where the quarian is, human, and I won't be forced to hurt you."

The krogan's rough hide was sandy yellow his thick lips parting around teeth like a row of chipped tombstones. Four vicious scars were carved into the right side of his face and had cracked open the lip of his crimson shell plate. His massive crest told Garrus that this krogan was old as sin. In a flash Garrus recognized the ugly bastard: the bounty hunter known as Urdnot Wrex. His heart started beating rapidly. He wasn't packing the firepower to deal with krogan regenerative ability. _Well t__his is not going to be good._

The krogan was interrogating Dr. Chloe Michel. One of the humans had a hold on the doctor's arm and the diminutive woman sagged in his grip. "I don't know, so I can't zell you," Michel sobbed, hunched beneath the weight of the krogan's implacable blood-red eyes.

Wrex crossed his clawed, stubby arms, enormous shell bobbing, and he stalked towards a medical bed. "I'm sorry to hear that, human. I have a great respect for healers."

Wrex's voice was thick and raspy with age, but confident and clear. The krogan reached out a claw and scraped it along the plastic surface of the medical bed. The plastic screeched as he ripped open a long, curling strand. "This is important, human. Think harder."

The man holding the doctor raised a pistol, which unfolded with a snick. "Who did you send her too? Who's supposed to arrange the meet with the Broker?"

Garrus pressed his back to the partition and glanced at his omni-tool. He had an scan of the room. Need to get the doc out of the way first. Wrex is going to be tough._ I'm going to need a headshot, through the eye or the mouth. Shame to kill Urdnot Wrex. Shame if he killed me though._ Garrus breathed in sharply through his plated nostrils and he was ready to move—

The door behind him dinged as it opened once more and Garrus saw a human woman stride unconcernedly through the door, a soldier wearing black armor and marked with a crimson blaze. Her short, choppy copper hair shone in the harsh lighting, a band of white making her sharp nose look even sharper. Her slanted eyes were met his own for a single moment, and Garrus admired her light green irises ringed with copper flecks glittering above haughty cheekbones. In a flash Garrus recognized her from the holographs. It was Commander Shepard. But in the flesh, he felt like he had met her before—like looking into the face of an old friend for childhood he had somehow forgotten.

The mercenaries wheeled to meet the new threat and Garrus seized his opportunity. Launching himself out of cover he extended his arm and fired a single shot, the boom of the mass accelerator causing his earbuds to filter the sound. His shot took the human mercenary holding the doctor in the throat, severing his spinal cord, and he collapsed instantaneously. Garrus hurled himself towards the doctor even as the body fell towards the floor. He seized the woman around the middle and bore her towards the cover of an oval column.

All hell broke loose.

Blasts of fire fore through the air where Garrus had stood and chips of melted plastic splattered across the side of his shields as gaping holes appearing in the wall panels. Garrus pinned the doctor to the ground with one hand and spun around to return fire. He saw that Shepard had drawn a matte black dual-barrel pistol. She let out a precise triple-tap of shots and Garrus saw a mercenary's barriers crack and then his head explode in a spray of pink mist and thin grey-white strands.

Garrus felt a smile widen his mandibles and draw them up into his jaw, at the same time, his dry lip curved, "Hey there!" he called out to the remaining enemies, "Whoever's left alive, this is C-Sec. You might as well surrender."

A firestorm of blasts answered his words and a piece of spraycrete the size of his head flew off the column. Urdnot Wrex grunted as he pumped his shotgun, "Stay out of my way, C-Sec! I don't want to kill a cop."

"Should have thought of that before roughing up the nice little doctor," Garrus said, leaning out and snapping off a shot.

He clipped the krogan's shields, and Wrex growled and let out another blast.

A spray of micro-accelerators ripped into the floor panelling next to Garrus' foot. That was close! Garrus checked on Shepard and couldn't see her. The Alliance N7 must have taken cover. The doctor was trying to sit up and Garrus gently but firmly pushed her back into the floor with his hand, "Stay down, doc, you really don't want to get shot. We're going to need you if I get shot."

As if to punctuate his point a rattle of gunfire sounded at the other end of the clinic and Garrus' mandibles clicked nervously. But the next thing he heard was a loud, female voice, almost vibrating like a turian, "Stand down, krogan. Don't make me fire this from the shoulder."

Garrus snapped a peek and saw Commander Shepard on one knee holding a high-powered sniper rifle with an angular scope. Depending on her ammunition she might be able to slow him down with a rifle like that. Wisely, she kept three different hospital beds between her and Wrex to prevent the Battle Master from charging. Urdnot Wrex's yellow lip lifted fractionally, revealing a handful of slimy teeth. He turned menacingly, "Won't be the first time I take a shot to the crest, human. Give me another scar. Why don't you stand down and leave here. Alive."

"I can't do that, krogan," Shepard said, "I can't let you kill the quarian."

"I can't let you stop me," Wrex growled.

Garrus pushed the shaking doctor against the pillar, stood, and straightened his pistol, "You're surrounded, Urdnot Wrex. We can take you in to custody or take you out in body bag. Your choice."

The krogan warrior's enormous red orbs narrowed. He let out a guttural roar and an aura of blue fire sparked out of thin air around him. Garrus fired one quick shot before diving to the side as the krogan charged past him. Shepard's rifle boomed like a wave of thunder and the windows cracked. Garrus saw the krogan's shields blaze as he raced past, and then the krogan smashed through the door to reception like it was paper. Garrus sprang to his feet only to spot a tiny cylinder rolling along the ground in the krogan's wake.

"Grenade!" Garrus dived atop the doctor just as the scorching wave of an explosion slapped at his legs and back like a giant fist.

* * *

Ashley stayed poised for action but as the minutes dragged out she grew more convinced that nothing was going to happen. So her heart almost stopped when the doors to the clinic exploded and sprayed hydraulic fluid across the floor and a krogan wreathed in blue fire charged onto the concourse, roaring, an enormous shotgun in two clawed hands.

Ashley Williams hand was on her pistol and she drew even as one of the doors spun through the air like a blade and smashed into the car just behind her—shards of metal, plastic, and cubes of shattered glass flew through the air. Years of training sent Ashley diving to the deck and glass rained down on her back. The roar of an enraged krogan echoed across the street. Pandemonium ensued a single, highly compressed moment later. Suddenly asari and humans were screaming, salarians were jumping in every direction, adverts were ringing discordantly, and glass continued to chime as it fell onto the metal plates.

Ashley knifed to her feet and raised her Cobra, her barriers rising up around her. Her shields were all that saved her as a shotgun blast took Ashley in the chest and sent her back to the deck once again. Her barriers failed with a pop of displaced air as she hit the ground, hard. The krogan appeared above her and one clawed hoof slammed onto Ashley's gun-arm, pinning her like a bug. The Marine yelled incoherently, animal fear coursing through her at the sight of an enormous dinosaur wielding a shotgun. She struck out with her fist and her hand rebounded from the krogan's armored leg.

The krogan seemed to consider Ashley Williams for an infinitely long second, and then bounded away, landing next to an air-car with a thump. Shots whizzed past over the prone Marine, hissing into the cars and smashing on the krogan's barrier with blue flashes. Ashley gasped for breath, winded, and rolled over with the crunching sounds of broken glass. The krogan had heaved open the winged door to the car and squashed himself into the seat. The door closed even as a shot broke open the front windshield. The krogan levelled his shotgun through the gap and Ashley instinctively hit the deck again as a lance of fire passed over her prone body, her ears ringing.

The car shot upwards and then darted into the shaft that led to the transportation tubes, even as the rattle of return fire sent a burst of white flashes through the air.

"Alpha Seven. Look at me!"

Ashley groaned as she rolled back and glass stabbed at the back of her neck.

The Commander stared down at her, a smoking sniper rifle in one hand, the other glove reaching out towards him. Some deep emotion twisted her features, creating a deep crease between her angular brows and narrowing her almond-shaped eyes into dark-lashed slits. Ashley was shaking as she took the offered hand and her commander pulled her upright. Ashley rose to her feet and steadied herself before putting a hand to the back of his neck and felt hot, wet blood. "Commander!" she breathed, "I'm so sorry, Commander, he got right past me like it was nothing!"

Ashley's heart was pounding quickly as the Commander stared at her for another long second, "Don't worry about it. That was a krogan. You're lucky to be alive."

"Uh, that's the thing, ma'am. I hate to admit it but he had me on the deck and he…didn't shoot. He let me live, ma'am."

Commander Shepard frowned and then her face unfolded into a controlled smile, a taut flick of her lips that didn't reach her eyes. "Remind me to thank him later. After I put a few rounds in his ugly hide."

"Yes ma'am," Ashley nodded quickly.

Shepard scraped a gloved hand through her hair and then turned towards the distant wail of sirens. "Udina's going to lose it," Shepard said thoughtfully.

"Uh, right, ma'am," Ashley's ears were still ringing.

"Damage was worth it, Williams." Shepard smiled again, and this time her eyes were burning, "We have a solid lead."

* * *

Automatic fire suppressors sprayed Garrus and the doctor down with yellow foam. Garrus rose to his feet, limbs trembling slightly from the blast of the grenade. _Thank the spirits Wrex really wasn't trying to kill us, the old bastard. That was just a concussive._

Garrus swept his talons along his armor, spraying the floor with flecks of foam, and then checked on the doctor. "You alright, doc?"

"I… I am…" the human staggered to her feet and leant against the scarred column.

"Good," Garrus said, "Stay here, stay down."

Garrus scanned the room, his visor identifying the cooling corpses, and then sprinted through the shattered lobby and out onto the Concourse. Distant screams came from the fleeing crowd and the low wail of sirens sounded in the entrance to the air-car tube. An air-car had been cut in half by one of the Med Clinic doors and shards of plastic and glass covered everything. Garrus saw that four humans had not fled: Commander Shepard, standing with a smoking sniper rifle hitched to her hip, talking to a cut-up human, and two soldiers, one with an assault rifle and one with a pistol. _That is the woman from the bar,_ Garrus though, eye-plates narrowing. Garrus holstered his pistol and approached the Commander. "I assume the krogan got away?"

Commander Shepard turned towards and Garrus was once again struck by an uncanny sense of familiarity. She was a fellow warrior. Cold anger had frozen her features and made her brown freckles stand out starkly against the pale bones of her face. "Yes, Centurion."

Garrus held out a talon, "Garrus, Garrus Vakarian," he said, "Thanks for the assist but I had that under control."

"I see," Shepard held herself stiffly, her movements tightly controlled. She took his hand after a moment and shook once. "That was a dangerous move you pulled in there, C-Sec. There was a civilian in the crossfire."

"I had the shot," Garrus said, "Besides, they wanted her alive."

Shepard's lip twitched in a frown or a smile. She paused. "Good shot."

"You too," Garrus grinned, "That must have hurt," he gestured at her long-barreled rifle, "I still wish they would let us use them on the job."

Shepard collapsed the rifle into a small rectangle and sheathed it on her back. She jerked one armored shoulder in a shrug, "I still didn't get him."

The sirens were getting closer and Garrus paused, sweeping his eyes across the three other humans. They have to be her team. The Executor would have them locked up and it would take weeks to cut through the regulations. "You better get out of here, Commander, before more C-Sec arrive." Garrus aimed his omni-tool at the Public Transit terminal and entered a command. The doors to one of the public air-cars popped open, "I've overridden the normal security and monitoring commands. The car thinks you're a C-Sec informant so it won't record your trip. Take your team and clear out, Commander."

Shepard eyed him for a moment. "We need to talk, C-Sec."

"Meet me at Flux in three hours," Garrus said, "Seriously, go!"

Commander Shepard hand rose towards her forehead in the subtle sketch of a salute and Garrus felt a surprising sense of gratitude. He barely knew the woman, but her single gesture of respect made his mandibles flicker. The Alliance Marines loaded into the car. Garrus had a funny smile on his face as they lifted off and slid soundlessly into the access tube. _This is going to be interesting._

* * *

Commander Shepard didn't relax until they reached the Alliance Base and were inside the security perimeter. Her shoulders felt like metal cables under high pressure as she turned slowly and examined the closed blast door. Whirling yellow lights cast kaleidoscopic shows across the white metal. She massaged her right shoulder without thinking as she breathed in and out slowly and steadily, attempting to control the toxins pulsing through every artery. The adrenal chemicals that made her vision pulse. The animal desire to return to the fight. The lingering stink of fear at the sight of a fully grown krogan, hard, fast bastards that could take an artillery shell and keep coming. She was lucky. She was always lucky. The veins in her neck were galloping like a wild mustang.

She forced herself to think. _Regroup. Report to Captain Anderson. Move out. Meet Garrus Vakarian. Good shot. Smart mouth. And damn lucky._ Shepard smiled. She had a target.

* * *

**Codex: Citadel and Galactic Government/Citadel Station/Citadel Security: Organization**

_Citadel Security Services, more commonly known as C-Sec, is responsible for the enforcement of law and order aboard Citadel Station, the protection of the Citadel Council, customs enforcement, and search-and-rescue operations. C-Sec was established after the Krogan Rebellions when the Turian Hierarchy was invited to join the Citadel Council. C-Sec was organized according to turian specifications and the majority of agents and officers are turian. C-Sec has 210,000 agents, 150,000 community officers, and a classified number of combat drones, mechs, gunships, and space vehicles._

_C-Sec is commanded by the Executor. It is subdivided into six administrative divisions, Enforcement, Investigation, Customs, Network, Special Response, and Patrol, each commanded by a Praetor responsible for training and administration. Three special offices report directly to the Executor: Intelligence, Internal Security, and Finances. The majority of agents are attached to one of seven commands: Kithoi Ward, Tayseri Ward, Bachjret Ward, Zakera Ward, Aroch Ward, Presidium Security, and Local Space Security. Each Ward is commanded by a Legate that has authority over all of the divisional officers within their area of responsibility. The Investigators, Network, and Special Response officers are centrally located in the Ward Headquarters, while other officers are divided among the Precincts commanded by Prefects. Local Space Security is commanded by a Praetor responsible for the fleet of space vehicles that conduct customs enforcement and search-and-rescue operations. Presidium Security is an elite unit commanded by a Praetor that, unlike the other units, is organized to maintain a strict balance between asari, salarian, and turian officers. Presidium Security guards the Councillors, the Conciliar Adjutants, and the members of the Council Committees._

_C-Sec uses turian ranks. Unlike the Alliance, the turians make no distinction between commissioned and non-commissioned officers. Turian discipline and training means that they have far less divisions of responsibility. Paygrade and further subdivisions of responsibility are determined using a complementary system of meritocratic numerical ranks in addition to their military responsibilities._  
_C-Sec ranks, in ascending order, compared to an equivalent Alliance rank:_

_Legionary (Private First Class)_  
_Decurion (Gunnery Chief)_  
_Centurion (First Lieutenant)_  
_Tribune (Staff Commander)_  
_Prefect (Captain)_  
_Legate (Rear Admiral)_  
_Praetor (Admiral)_  
_Executor (Fleet Admiral)_


	9. Dirty Deals

**Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**

**2183.07.15**

Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams slid a tube of red wine back and forth between her cupped hands. She really wanted to take a drink, but she was on the clock. It didn't help that Flux pulsed with shitty electronic music and a few hours ago she had been stomped on by a giant krogan. Ashley rubbed at her temple and then checked her omni-tool. It was already 2235 hours and they were waiting for Garrus Vakarian to show. "Where is he?" Ashley said, scanning the neon entrance to the club from where they sat on the upper deck at a blue metal table.

"Stop worrying, Alpha Three," Private First Class Dan Shay said, "We're covering the interior, the gambling den, and the access point."

Orden Laflamme (Alpha Six) and Jing Hsaio (Alpha Ten) waited in the attached gambling parlour filled with glittering slot machines and salarian games of chance. Outside the bar, Lieutenant Alenko (Alpha Two) loitered in the corridor with Carlton Tucks (Alpha Eight). They had every angle covered, but Ashley was nervous. She tapped the glass. "We could have used Alpha Seven on the floor."

"She needed to take Alpha Four back to the ship, _chica_. Which is where you should be too. You took quite a beating."

"I'm fine," Ashley shot Shay a dark look.

"Good," Shay said, "So relax. We know what we're doing—you know what you're doing."

Shepard had appointed Dan Shay to fill Richard Jenkins slot and he was due for a promotion to Corporal; the experienced marine had a relaxed manner and an easy smile. His wavy dark hair was matched with a neatly trimmed black beard—Ashley disapproved of this flagrant disregard for personal grooming regulations. But she had to admit that he was good solider. His easy-going smile was belayed by his sharp eyes and the fact that he kept his pistol ready under the table.

"Fine," Ashley grunted, then looked at her omni-tool. "Damn it, he's late. I knew we couldn't trust him."

"Our new ally?"

"The turian," Ashley said.

"He got us out of a real disaster using that trick with the car, _gracias a Dios_," Shay shrugged.

"Why?" Ashley said, "He's up to something. They always have a plan."

Shay frowned, but Ashley wasn't looking at him, she had returned to examining the glowing lines of coloured lights playing across the raised dance floor. Undulating asari drifted through crowds of entranced humans and salarians. Ashley glared at the salacious aliens before her gaze drifted across the floor towards a series of round tables. The Commander had set herself up at a table in the corner, back to the wall. Shepard was still in her black armor. Her hair glinted with ribbons of obdsidian and red as she drank deeply from a bottle of beer and Ashley suppressed a twinge of jealousy. Ashley and Shay had drinks but they only pretended to drink them.

With a sigh Ashley rubbed at her temple. It felt like her tight bun was ripping her hair out of her scalp. The tempo of the electronica was increasing and Ashley longed for the soothing refrains of classical music—real music produced by real humans. Her earbud activated, "Alpha Three, this is Alpha Two. Contact is approaching. Out."

Ashley jerked upright, "Copy that, Alpha Two," Ashley whispered, tapping her ear, "Confirm arrival with Alpha One. Out."

"Roger, over and out."

Ashley leaned forward and waited. The door to the club hissed open and a tall turian paused, long grey crests flicking. "Alpha Two, contact has seen Alpha One," Ashley whispered with a smile, "Contact is approaching, over."

* * *

Shepard was already on her second beer. There was a part of her thought she should slow down, but a larger part needed the cold relief. Her head was pounding. Between a lack of sleep and the chemical bath of combat Shepard was simultaneously exhausted and electrified. She wanted to pummel Wrex into the deck for shooting at her marines—though she reminded herself that, for some reason, he choose not to kill Williams. That just might save his life.

"Alpha Two, contact has seen Alpha One. Contact is approaching, over."

Clearing her head of all the extraneous shit she was trying to deal with, Shepard looked up. She identified Garrus Vakarian and raised her beer. His visor gleamed like a plane of ice positioned in front of his left eye. He had blue streaks of paint marking his nose, on the plates beneath his beady eyes, and on the mandibles on either side of his small mouth. Shepard took a drink of beer as the C-Sec agent sat down at her table and said, "Thanks for meeting me like this."

Shepard nodded slowly as she scanned his appearance for a second time. He had piercing blue eyes. His long talons made her instinctively wary but she liked his calm, rich voice, the consonants grumbling with the distinctive friction of the turian throat. He shifted nervously in his seat, tapping the table with his claws. "You look uncomfortable," Shepard said at last, "Should I be worried?"

"No," Vakarian flashed the turian equivalent of a smile, mandibles widening and tilted and his grey lip lifting, revealing a grey-blue tongue, "It's just you're in my seat. I usually sit with my back to the wall."

Shepard smiled, surprising herself. The human server arrived and Garrus ordered a dextro drink. When the server departed, Vakarian accessed his omni-tool. "We can talk. No listening devices."

Shepard nodded and then ran her own scan. She set up an audio scrambler. Shepard took a draft of beer as she struggle to overcome her natural inhibitions. "Look, Vakarian."

"Commander," Vakarian raised an eyebrow ridge.

She looked Vakarian straight in his peregrine eyes, set in dark rings of tissue that contracted subtly at her words. "Thanks," she grunted, "For saving me a lot of time and grief with C-Sec and the Embassy."

Vakarian smiled. "Your welcome, Commander Shepard. I'll admit, it wasn't just out of the kindness of my heart. You have no idea how much work that saved me. You know how many forms I would have to fill out for engaging in a firefight with an Alliance officer?"

Once again Shepard surprised herself with her reaction—she almost smiled. "Should I be worried about blowback?"

"No," Vakarian shook his head, "I deleted the security footage and there was enough damage that it will take the techs days to figure it out all out. It'll give them something to do."

Shepard resisted the quirk in her cheeks, threatening to let another smile cross her face. It was unnatural. Suddenly, something hissed in her ear like a snake's tongue tasting the air, _Warn him… What…is coming… Warn him! _Jane felt a prickle of fear. The voice seemed to know who she was talking to. _I'm not going mad. The Prothean Beacon did something to me. I just have to focus on the problem at hand._ Shepard's eyes locked on Vakarian. "What do you know about the krogan shooter?"

"Urdnot Wrex. He's a mercenary, a battle master," Vakarian replied, "Very old, very dangerous. They say he's the best. I was surprised to see him, actually, he's very picky about his jobs."

"Do you know what he's after?"

"Well, what are you after, Commander?"

"I think you know," Jane bared her teeth. "Saren Arterius."

"Yeah," Vakarian said, nodding repeatedly, "I thought so. So you know I was on the investigation? I didn't have a chance. The Council didn't want their precious Saren brought down. But I do, Shepard, and if we work together we can solve this thing. So you can stop having your agents following me, trying to find a lead."

Shepard put an arm over the back of her chair and sipped at her beer. "You're sharp, Vakarian."

Vakarian laughed. His drink arrived and he took a long gulp. He wiped his small mouth, "Thanks, Commander I needed that."

Shepard raised an eyebrow and Garrus chuckled, "Do you know what it feels like to fight red tape?"

"Yeah, I think I do," Shepard said, "I was just talking to the Council. I'm pretty sure they invented red tape."

Garrus gave a bark of laughter. "Of course. So you know what I'm talking about."

"Damn straight," Shepard smiled and they both drank.

"Alright, let's do this, Shepard," Vakarian said, his smile fading, "I think we should work together. I think there's a chance that C-Sec has been compromised. Saren has too many allies and Urdnot Wrex got the clinic too fast."

Shepard frowned. "Makes sense. We can't risk going through channels when we're up against a Spectre."

"Exactly," Garrus sighed. "But you're operating on the outside, so we can help each other. I'm looking for a quarian migrant who has information on the geth. Saren used the geth to attack your colony and then this quarian shows up with classified information? Someone's gunning for this quarian, hard, and they hired Wrex, who doesn't come cheap. This has to be Saren, it can't be a coincidence, I can feel it in my gizzard."

Shepard processed the new information as carefully as she could. Her heart was pounding. "Do we have a location?

"Not…quite," Vakarian said, "It gets complicated. I interviewed the doctor, she was shaken up pretty badly, but otherwise unhurt. Now, the quarian said she had valuable information so the doc sent her in the direction of the Shadow Broker for protection. Wrex knows about the Broker, so they're just ahead of us and we have to move fast!" Vakarian snapped his drink onto the table, "There's two people we can talk to now: Barla Von, who's the Broker's agent in diplomatic circles, and Fist, his frontman and enforcer in Kithoi Ward. We should talk to Fist, first. If the quarian was looking for protection, he would be the one to arrange something like this—and quarians, uh, aren't very common in the Financial District."

"That's all I need," Shepard bared her teeth, "I'll send someone to check in with Von. I'll deal with Fist personally."

"He's holed up in his club, Chora's Den, with a small army of enforcers and a lot of civilians in the way," Vakarian made a spitting noise, "The scum."

"So no frontal assault," Shepard shrugged, "I can still get in, but you're going to stick out, Vakarian. You look like a cop."

"Please, give me some credit, Shepard." Garrus chuckled. "Chora's Den is known for its dirty deals, all I have to do is arrange a meeting. There's a C-Sec officer who's holed up after he got suspended, Johannes Harkin. He's dirty, but he's smart, and he has a lot of connections. He'll be my way in."

Shepard let herself smile, a hard smile that felt someone was stretching her mouth open with their fingers, "Right. But we want to see Fist alone with no civilians in the crossfire. So if you're going in to make a dirty deal, I'm going to be the reason."

* * *

Urdnot Wrex's thick chest rose and fell with sharp breaths. His lungs burned, his blood burned. A song vibrated like an engine in his throat, the deep, throaty songs of his ancestors. Second by second, note by note, Wrex swallowed his anger. His three stomachs twisted themselves into knots and roiled with acid. He stood in a small chamber, the walls layered with electronic dampening materials. When he was calm, Wrex activated the communications channel. With a rising hum a holographic projection rose out of a disk sitting on the floor. "Report," Saren Arterius whispered.

Wrex stared at the holographic face of his employer. His gut was trying to tell him something, and he didn't like it. "I don't have her," Wrex grunted, "C-Sec and a human soldier got in the way. Some Alliance N7 called Shepard."

"Shepard!" Saren voice rose into a screech and his holographic face twisted, jaw working, "I want you to find her!" Saren hissed, "Find her and kill her!"

"That's going to cost you," Wrex said, "You didn't hire me to kill an Alliance N7. I have nothing against them."

"I'm paying you with the future of your violent species. You will do as I tell you, krogan."

Wrex crossed his arms and leant back, his scars wrinkling as he smiled, "Right. I understand, Spectre, and I'm still…interested.

"Then kill her; kill anyone that get's in your way."

"What about the quarian? I still don't know how she's planning on handing the memory core over to the Shadow Broker. The doctor was my lead, and she'll be in protective custody by now," Wrex scratched at a burn on his armor.

"Then go to the source and get ahead of the quarian," Saren hissed, "The Shadow Broker will not be interfering with my plans for much longer. His enforcer on the Citadel is a human named Fist. He is…susceptible. Make a deal with him and get him to talk."

"I'm going to need more resources to do two jobs—"

Saren spat. "I'm transmitting an additional two million credits. They say you are the best, Wrex. Thus far… Well. Prove it."

Saren vanished.

Wrex grunted sourly. _Professional pride's at stake now_, he thought, but his gut was still twitching. This job kept getting worse, and the risks involved greater. Wrex had lost four of his mercenary band today, and he needed new meat—and new meat talked to the cops when shit hit the fan. Not to mention his employer was definitely going insane. Wrex ran a claw along the burn on his shoulder where Shepard had clipped his back with a kinetic round like the sledgehammer of the ancestors. Wrex's face wrinkled as he tried to sort out his feelings._ She ain't done nothing to me… Not to mention I'll be on the run for years if I kill an Alliance N7._

But Saren was offering something that Wrex was having a hard time turning down. Not just credits, but the salvation of the krogan people: the cure to the genophage. The Battle Master had taken the contract when Saren had started dangling clues in front of him, offering the prize, and now… _Well, whatever else happens, this is going to be a fun fight. Figure all the other shit out later._

Wrex marched into the adjacent room. The dim warehouse was full of shadows clinging to dirty corners. A long table strewn with weapons and electronics. Plastic crates of explosives and grenades were piled against one wall, while on the other side drums of different ammunition were stacked on a metal cage. A group of Wrex's hand-picked human and batarian mercenaries lounged around a holographic projector watching an asari porno, while, on the other side of the chamber, more were cleaning and assembling weapons. One of the humans looked up as Wrex approached, a hardened ex-marine named Jun-Seong Kwon, almost as large as a krogan with slabs of muscle straining to escape from his thin shirt. "What's the situation, boss?"

Wrex liked working with humans. Unlike the Council Races, humans didn't care that krogans were a galactic terror. Humans could be disciplined with a lick of training and they could move freely through Citadel Space. Hell, if he got hungry, Wrex could always eat them.

Wrex nodded towards his comrade. His lip curled. "Employer wants us to do a second job and it's going to be messy." The Battle Master raised his voice to a bellow, "Listen up, maggots!"

* * *

The alarms inside Tali'Zorah's suit began to beep. Something was brushing against her leg. Tali jerked upright, her heart pounding, and her hand slammed onto her pistol. The holographic display inside her visor whirled as she swung her head from side to side. Blinking lights left streaks in her vision. She kicked out with both long legs and impacted something tough but yielding. A heavy weight crashed into the side of the storage room. Tali raised her gun with a cry and saw a shadowed form standing above her legs. Her finger fell on the trigger—and then she gasped in relief and released the switch. It was a keeper, six limbs waving in the air like an overturned insect.

Tali lowered her gun slightly. The keeper righted itself with a flick of its stubby arms. "You won't take me to the protein vats!" Tali growled, "Go away!"

The keeper examined her dispassionately with black eyes that glinted in the reflected light from her visor. It backed away and the door hissed open. The keeper retreated into the hall and the door closed behind it. "Ancestors…" Tali groaned and flopped backwards onto the hard deck, her hands going limp, "Ow."

Her neck and back ached and the wound in her side throbbed. The doctor had patched her up as best she could but Tali had been in too much of a hurry to receive a complete treatment. At the very least, the doctor had been able to provide medications that reduced her chances of a suit infection. Most importantly, the doctor had suggested that Tali'Zorah contact the Shadow Broker and trade her information for protection—and desperation had led Tali to accept the doctor's advice. She had made contact with a man named Fist over the Extranet, providing him with a section of the geth code to verify the value of her information. Within minutes, Fist had arranged to meet the next day.

Tali bit her lip as she considered her plan. It felt wrong. How was she supposed to live with herself if she sold the memory core, if what she had discovered was true?

Tali stared groggily up at the ceiling. Tali had found a storage facility to hide and recover. Tall metal shelving units closed in on either side laden with bulky cylinders of industrial solvents, cleaners, and lubricants. She had overridden the door controls so that no one would enter while she rested, but it seemed like the Keeper had been dispatched to investigate. Now she had to move before the Keeper alerted security. But she still lay on the warm metal. She felt leaden and powerless.

Sleeping in her suit on the bare floor was giving her serious aches and pains; unfortunately, Tali had lost the foam pallet quarians were issued for their pilgrimage when she lost her ship at Omega. Now, she had a serious crick in her neck and her lower back felt like someone had beaten her with a metal pipe. "That's too close for comfort, Tali," she muttered to herself as groaned and hauled herself into a sitting position, "Someone does want to beat you to death with a metal pipe!"

Tali raised her tired hands to her helmet and felt under the metal rim. Her long fingers massaged where the helmet joined the padded rings of armor around her throat. Electromuscular ridges supported the weight of her helmet that contained her breathing apparatus and communicator. The collar took the weight of the visor off of her neck and allowed her head to move freely inside her helmet, but the system wasn't perfect. The skin on her neck still felt chafed and raw. Tali opened a control pane on her omni-tool and increased the sensitivity level in that suit compartment. The inner surface of the suit increased in warmth and released a soothing agent. Tali sighed. Quarian skin was unusually sensitive without the beneficial organisms of Rannoch. The mesh of sensors laid against her skin monitored for abrasions, soreness, and rashes. The suit wicked away her perspiration. At least the cilia-like threads of her hair were self-cleaning, or the inside of her hood would be a nightmare. When the treatment was complete Tali breathed out, lay on her back and prepared to reactivate the plumbing. She made a face as the delicate machinery rose into place. "Ugh."

Her lips twisted into a grimace, Tali tapped her omni-tool and a tube rose into place inside her helmet. She sucked on the tube and chugged the mouthwash. Suddenly, Tali paused, her mouth and cheeks full of burning liquid. She was going through the motions. The routine. The entire galaxy was in danger and Tali was busy brushing her teeth. A panicked laugh rose in her throat and she almost choked. She spat the mouthwash into the receptacle and closed her eyes, feeling her long lashes brush against her cheeks. She focused on the uncomfortable pressures inside her body. The electric tingle of her implants. Her hair, kissing the spinal taps at the base of her neck. The slight friction of the net, laced with tubes and sensors, that kept her hair away from her face. The rustle of her silk cowl. Her holographic display created dancing spots of light on the inside of her eyelids.

But she couldn't turn it off. She couldn't stop. Her gums felt raw and her tongue prickled in the dry air inside her helmet. "Come on, there has to be something…" she whispered to herself, her voice hoarse and desperate, _But…but if I don't make the deal, I'll be hunted down and killed. I just have to do something._

She had to decide on her own, she was cut off from her people. Tali was completely alone.

* * *

Chora's Den was located deep in the Wards. It only had one public access hatch, located on a balcony overlooking an atmospheric shaft. The distant whir and hum of air-cars echoed up the vast chasm. Cantilevered terraces edged the shaft and Shepard observed an unmarked air-car rise out of the depths, position itself next to the parapet, and several salarians exited onto the walkway. "Convenient," Shepard said.

"Very," Garrus Vakarian nodded, "Completely against transportation regulations, but very convenient for, well, let's call them deliveries."

"Works for us," Shepard said, tugging at jacket further down her hips.

She felt naked wearing civilian clothes despite the fact that, underneath her pants and jacket, she still wore an armored skin-suit. Still, it was the principle of the thing. She had been in uniform for her entire adult life. Armor was her skin. She wasn't supposed to wear a metallic black tunic with long sleeves and a high collar. At least she had her pistol on her hip, but she missed the weight of her armor and the rifles on her back. The goal was for Shepard to look non-threatening—as was possible—and for their target to focus his attention on Garrus.

"Alpha Two this is Alpha One," Shepard said, "Are you in position, over?"

"Alpha Squad is in position, over."

"Copy that, Alpha One and Omega One are moving in. From this point maintain radio silence. Over and out," Shepard tapped her earbud and then deactivated her radio, taking a deep breath.

Alpha Squad was holed up in the rented air-van attached like a limpet mine to the side of the atmospheric shaft two hundred meters down; on Vakarian's emergency signal the air-van could deploy Alpha Squad into Chora's Den in under twenty seconds. Twenty seconds was, unfortunately, a very long time in a firefight. She knew her Marines would be on edge, unable to know what was going on but Shepard couldn't risk open communications. This mission is really pushing the limits.

"Omega One?" Garrus muttered.

"Yeah. Alpha and Omega, Vakarian," Shepard said.

"You sure you okay with this, Commander?" Garrus said, turning and facing her, "You're remarkably unarmed. It just feels wrong."

Shepard laughed shortly. "Funny, Vakarian. Look. You're taking a huge risk here. You can call me Shepard."

"Well then, are you okay with this…Shepard?"

They had concocted a plan on a shoestring and they were in a race with Urdnot Wrex. There was no time for subtlety or second thoughts. Shepard patted his armored shoulder with a thin smile, "Let's go."

They made their way down a slanted ramp towards the doors to Chora's Den, the deep bass of the music inside vibrating through the deck panels. The holographic representation of an asari flickered above the door. Two krogan bouncers peeled away from the walls and stood up to their considerable height. One had a crest pockmarked with small craters, the other, a missing tooth. Shepard labelled them Hostile One and Hostile Two. Hostile One grunted and raised his hand, "What do you want, C-Sec?"

Garrus bobbed his head, "I'm here to see Harkin, he's expecting me."

Johannes Harkin was bad news. Shepard had debriefed with Captain Anderson on the Normandy while they prepared their plan of attack, and Anderson had said that Harkin had been one of the first wave of humans who joined Citadel Security. Unfortunately, Johannes Harkin hadn't impressed his turian colleagues. He was a dirty cop who had used his contacts with the human business community for personal profit and mutual support. Until recently he had been untouchable, Harkin had a lot of dirt on a lot of fellow officers and when he stepped too far out of line the Alliance Embassy had covered it up to avoid the scandal. But Udina, for all his flaws, did not lack for _cajones_. The Ambassador had cut Harkin loose last year, and the officer had been suspended pending a formal investigation.

Shepard knew men like Johannes Harkin. Men like him ran the streets and tenements of her childhood. She knew he was just the sort of person who would jump at the chance to get dirt on Garrus Vakarian because Harkin wanted to believe everyone was just as dirty as he was. That was the plan anyways.

The second krogan bouncer was glaring at Shepard and she ignored him. "Alright," the first krogan growled and released a hand from his earbud, "Go on in."

The doors opened and released a wave of loud music and cheap perfume. Garrus steered her inside and Shepard took a quick scan of the interior: a circular chamber that glowed red and blue in the fluorescent light; a series of recessed nooks containing dozens of patrons hidden in shadows. She could identify a large number of hostiles around the edges of the room, while the patrons were entertained by undulating asari dancers. More dancers sauntered around the perimeter of a raised platform above the circular bar in the center of the club, swinging along a series of poles in an impressive display of acrobatics and blue skin. "This way," Garrus said in her ear, his voice cutting through the pounding music.

They circled the bar and aimed for a table with a single older human male. He had a wrinkled face and a bald head, excepting a thin ring of dark grey hair behind his ears. His small eyes glittered with cruel amusement and a tiny smile was tugging at one corner of his thin mouth. "Garrus high-and-mighty Vakarian," Harkin sneered as they stopped in front of his table, "What a fine surprise to see someone of your moral integrity in a place like this."

Garrus frowned, "Harkin. I'm not here for insults."

"You are now, Vakarian," Harkin, "Look how the mighty have fallen. Come beggin' Harkin for help. Why doncha sit down."

He snapped his fingers and Garrus sat with a glower. Shepard waited a moment and then took her own chair.

"And who are you, sweetheart?" Harkin purred, reaching out and patting Shepard's knee, "Give us a look."

"You'll know soon enough," Shepard replied.

Harkin looked her up and down and pursed his lips. "Do I know you, sweetheart? Ever spent time with ol' daddy Harkin?"

"I don't think so."

Harkin grunted, "No reason to be rude, sweetheart. You've gotta nice face but you're gotta show a little skin, not like these fine ladies…" Harkin's eyes lingered on an dancer, and then he ran his gaze up and down Shepard's body again with an exaggerated frown, "Not that there's much going on there to show, still, if you like chinks then it's not unusual."

Shepard suppressed her anger—reminding herself that as soon as the mission was complete, this pig would be varren meat. Garrus looked almost as angry as Shepard felt. "Keep a civil tongue in your head, Harkin!"

"Hey you must really like her, Vakarian…" Harkin stared for a second and then laughed. "So that's what this is about? Man, you like some fine human ass, you really do."

Harkin sniggered uncontrollably. Shepard eyed her erstwhile partner, slightly surprised. Who would have known. "Harkin this is unnecessary. We are here for business."

The lecherous old man smiled at her, "I'm still deciding if a skinny little thing like you is worth the trouble, sweetheart."

"Damn it, Harkin, this isn't a joke!" Garrus said, but his mandibles were locked up, his neck drawn back, and his eyes wide, signs of turian embarrassment.

"It really is," Harkin said, "You always had a stick up your ass, Vakarian, so this is cosmic-fucking-karma. I always knew you were going to do something. Everyone does."

"Shut your dirty mouth, Harkin, and listen to me!" Garrus snapped.

Harkin's face darkened. He leant back in his chair. "That's no way to talk to me, now is it, Vakarian. I thought you needed my help?"

Shepard put a hand on Garru's elbow spur. Garrus's mandibles clenched. "Unfortunately, we do."

"Well I dunno. Way you've been talking, now, I guess it depends on how you're going to help me," Harkin replied sourly, "You never helped me before, Vakarian."

"I didn't pay you off, you mean!" Garrus snapped, "But I knew what you were up to. I didn't say anything did I? Even though I knew you were been selling files to the Shadow Broker, and taking bribes to keep his men out of jail."

"You ain't recording this shit, are you Garrus?" Harkin growled, "Because I think my friends here would be very pissed off if you were."

Garrus raised his hands, "I'm not Harkin. I'm here to deal. I do need your, uh…special skills."

Harkin scanned them with his omni-tool and then grunted, satisfied. "I ain't saying I have done any of those truly horrible things you've said I did, but, hey, I'll listen. Anything for a fellow officer—and a piece of ass like you, sweetheart."

"Can we just make a deal, Harkin?" Garrus interrupted, "I've got information and connections and I'm willing to trade."

"Well, well, well. Why now?" Harkin said suspiciously.

"I've tired of being stuck at Centurion, Harkin," Garrus growled, "You know Chellick? We came up together but that colonial has been promoted over me. I'm sick of it and I want get ahead for once. I know you can get me in to see Fist. I need the Broker to sign off on this. I'll owe you, Harkin."

Harkin snickered, "You're just like the rest of us, eh, Garrus? Fine. What do you have to trade that would this…hypothetical exchange…worth it for me?"

"I have Commander Shepard."

Harkin laughed. "Yeah, right. What else you got, big shot?"

Shepard smiled, reached across the table with both hands, and seized Harkin's sweat-stained collar. Harkin yelped as he was hauled forward. They were nose to to nose. "Johannes Harkin. I am Commander Shepard. And if you ever talk to me like you just did again, I'm going to break both your arms."

She released him a second later and he collapsed into his seat. Garrus gave a throaty chuckle. "Harkin, Harkin… I'm insulted. Shepard and I are friends. She's agreed to see Fist because of me. She's willing to deal." Garrus examined his talons, "But if you're not interested…"

Harkin swallowed as he smoothed out his shirt his eyes darting across Shepard. "If you're messing with me I'm going to kill you, Vakarian. This…better be the real thing."

"It is," Garrus replied.

"Commander fucking Shepard, huh." Harkin swallowed again, "Look, I didn't recognize you, uh, lady. Seven years, no armor. Hair's shorter now."

"Want to see my medals?" Shepard sneered, "I don't care, Harkin. I'm not here for your recognition."

Harkin's jaw clenched. "So. If you are... What's in it for you?"

Shepard bared her teeth. "Leverage. I need inside access to Citadel Security and Vakarian is a weak point."

Garrus choked. Harkin stared at her for a second and then laughed, relaxing slightly. "Human lovin' and passed over for promotion, damn right he's a weak point. Aw, I shouldah bagged you years ago, Vakarian. You were all talk but deep down you're just as…flexible…as I am." Harkin sobered and adjusted his collar. "Alright, to business. Hypothetically, it would take 50,000 to arrange a meeting with the fine gentleman who runs this joint."

"Fifty thousand!" Garrus spluttered.

"Twenty," Shepard said.

"Forty," Harkin said.

"Twenty."

"You can't do that, girlie! _Thirty!_" Harkin growled.

"Twenty," Shepard peeled back her lip in a sneer.

"Twenty-five and that's it, damn it!"

"Done," Shepard nodded.

Muttering to himself, Harkin activated his omni-tool, which ejected a small fob. "This is the credit chip. You send me the credits, I'll arrange a meeting. Don't use your official bank account, C-Sec, or it's your stupid ass in the fire."

Garrus jerked the disk out of Harkin's hand, "I'm not stupid, Harkin. Look, I need this done fast. Give us a minute and I'll have your money."

"Transfer the credits to the chip and I'll talk to my friend, give me five minutes." Harkin said.

Garrus rose and drew Shepard to her feet and then they retreated, finding an unoccupied niche and sitting down. Garrus activated various countermeasures to prevent electronic eavesdropping and then leant forward and whispered, "I think he bought it. But do we have that kind of credit lying around? I mean, Harkin's right, if I use my accounts I'm going to be hauled in for questioning."

"It's fine," Shepard said, "Give me the account number."

Garrus rattled off the number and Shepard arranged the transfer from her black operations slush fund. As she worked, she asked, "So, did you really cover up Harkin's bribes?"

"No," Garrus sighed, "I reported him. But he was too slippery."

"I see." Shepard completed the transaction, "Done. I need a drink."

A human server appeared wearing a tight, glossy dress and heels. They placed their orders and the sever returned to the bar. Shepard watched Garrus admiring the waitress' walk. A small smile darted across Jane's face; he wasn't wrong, the woman looked pretty good walking away. A minute later, they were delivered a glass of beer and the bottle as well as a turian beverage. Garrus scanned the drinks with his omni-tool, "We're good."

Shepard placed the bottle at the edge of the table where she could use the reflection to keep a limited eye on her rear. She took a sip from the glass. Her nerves were jangling. The combination of the music and the lights were making her head pound and she felt strangely weak—light and noise had never affected her like this before. She rubbed at her temple. Harkin reminded her of too many people in her past, too many scumbags, thugs, and fixers. They all 'wanted to help,' they all wanted to 'set her up.' She took a longer drink. She realized her foot was tapping and she stilled it. Shepard washed away her thoughts with a gulp of beer. It helped her head. She tapped the edge of the glass.

Garrus leaned forward and Shepard brought their heads back together. "What's up?"

"I'm…sorry about what he said," Garrus growled "I wasn't… I don't know what I was expecting."

"Is it distracting you?"

"I'm a professional, Shepard, and this is a mission!"

"But you didn't bring it up before the mission."

"What was I supposed to say?" Garrus looked frustrated, "Does it matter?"

"No, you're right. It doesn't."

Garrus hesitated and then shrugged and leaned forward. "It's not something I like to…broadcast, publicly. You know?"

Shepard kept her face carefully neutral. "I can sympathize, Vakarian."

"You know I blame the asari. You practically look the same." Garrus sighed, "I can't believe I'm telling you this. It's really none of your business."

"I don't care who you want to fuck, Garrus, I'm not a bigot," Shepard said blandly, "I just don't want any more unexpected surprises."

"Don't worry about that. I am a professional. Seriously."

"I know. Now I'm going to slap you. Professionally."

"You're wha—"

Shepard smiled, drew back her hand, and slapped him across the face in a split second, aiming for the wide base of his mandible. His head rocked to the side and her palm stung from the impact with his rough hide.

Garrus growled, "What was that?"

"We're providing them with a distraction," Shepard said lightly. "Harkin's dirty little mind is now so busy he should completely ignore any contrary evidence to his expectations."

She took a long drink of beer. Garrus looked very confused. "Shepard, you're not, uh, well, with turians, like me…"

"Am I attracted to you?" Shepard said lightly. "Sorry Garrus, no. You're on the wrong team. Now, let's focus on the mission."

"The mission," Garrus said, "Uh, right. The mission. What are we doing again?"

A laugh escaped Shepard and then she slapped her mouth shut. _Come on, Shepard. So Vakarian is charming and funny. Well, you don't know him. Mission comes first, Marine._ Garrus was watching her with a smile. They were still just inches apart to speak over the music. "You're a smooth operator, Shepard, anyone ever tell you that?"

"Never."

"You just want me for my crest, like all the babes," Garrus shrugged, "Seriously though, why are you doing this?"

Shepard frowned. "Same reason you are. Catch the bad guys."

"I don't think so, Shepard. You're…driven."

"And you aren't?"

Garrus tilted his head, "Oh I'm driven, Shepard."

They were very close. Shepard met his blue eyes, unblinking. The little voice was back. It wanted her to tell Garrus everything. It needed to warn him that the Reapers were coming. "Saren is a threat to humanity," she finally said, ignoring the whisper. "He killed two of my marines on Eden Prime and it was his fucking mistake that he started his war with _me_. I'm the tip of the spear, Garrus."

"Yes, Commander," Garrus said softly. "Yes you are."

They fell silent and drank for a minute, and then Shepard's omni-tool pinged. "The credits are transferred," she said, "Let's move."

They made their way back to Harkin. Garrus handed Harkin the chip. "The credits are yours, Harkin, let us in to see Fist."

"I may have talked to a friend of mine about your offer, Vakarian," Harkin grinned, "And what a coincidence, my friend's willing to see you."

"What a surprise," Garrus said.

"Come on," Harkin staggered to his feet, belched, and then gestured towards the rear of the club. "After you, I insist."

Shepard's shoulder blades itched as Harkin fell in behind them. "You're coming with us, Harkin?"

"Wouldn't miss seeing this for the world, lady," Harkin laughed.

They made their way to the rear of the club, through a sliding door, where Hostiles One and Two were waiting. The bouncers led them past the VIP lounge, wreathed in a cloud of smoky light. Down the corridor, two human guards in unmarked white armor raised their pistols menacingly as they approached. Hostile Three and Hostile Four. "Weapons in the locker if you want to see Fist."

Garrus shook his head, "Not going to happen. Look, I need Fist's help. I'm not going to piss off the Shadow Broker, no one's that stupid."

One of the guards put a hand to the side of his helmet and listened for a moment. "Fine. Keep your hands where I can see them."

He gestured and the frosted doors hissed open. The two krogan took up position on either side of Garrus and Shepard, their meaty arms flexing menacingly. The human shooters were in front of them, while Harkin was behind. There was another door on their right. In the office, a red ceiling panel cast a hellish glow across an obsidian desk. Fist sat behind the desk on an elevated platform at the other end of the room. He was wearing red power armor and had a heavy pistol laid ostentatiously on the desk in front of him; Shepard recognized an expensive Kassa Razer. The man had a squashed face, piggish eyes, and a shaved plateau of black hair. Thus far was the plan was a success. They had access to Fist, who was overconfident and off-guard. Now they had to pry the quarian's location out of him.

"Fist," Garrus coughed, "Uh, thank you for seeing me. Harkin told you we want to make a deal?"

Fist stood up, "Yeah, Harkin told me somethin' alright."

Shepard heard the snick and click of a pistol unfolding into the firing position behind her. "Whoops," Harkin breathed, "You're screwed now, sweetheart."

[Updated 29-May-2016]


	10. Save the Quarian, Save the World

**Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**

**2183.07.15**

"You're screwed now, sweetheart," Johannes Harkin growled as he put the barrel of his pistol to the back of Commander Shepard's head.

Garrus Vakarian froze, thoughts tumbling over and over in his head. The original plan had just gotten a little more complicated. Despite an uncomfortable tightness in his gizzard he kept the surprise and fear off of his face. After all, Commander Shepard looked completely unfazed by the gun to her head. Fist had an evil grin, "Thanks for bringin' me Commander Shepard's head on a platter, Vakarian. This is goin' to make me a very rich man."

"Don't be stupid, Harkin," Shepard said softly over her shoulder, "I knew you were a piece of filth the moment I saw you, but I thought you were smarter than this. Walk away."

"You couldn't pay me enough to put up with you, bitch," Harkin hissed, "You're worth a lot of money, Shepard. As for Vakarian, well, I'll do his self-righteous ass for free."

Garrus rolled his eyes. "Great, Shepard. They fell for our cunning plan. Of course, now they want to kill us."

"Shut up!" Fist growled, "Now, drop your weapons!"

"Fist, be reasonable," Garrus sighed, "We're offering you a serious opportunity. The Shadow Broker—"

"They aren't working for the broker, Garrus," Shepard interrupted calmly, "They're working for Saren Arterius."

"That's right, bitch," Fist snarled, "He's the new boss. And he wants you bad. Now, strip 'em, boys."

Garrus' head was spinning as he grappled with Fist's betrayal. But he had more immediate problems: the two krogan had stepped forward from the sides of the room and chuckled in a menacing fashion. Garrus mentally labelled them Gaptooth and Pockmark. "Let's not do anything we'll regret, gentlemen," Garrus said, turning slowly to his left and raising his clawed hands as Gaptooth bared his remaining yellow tooth.

"I'm going to enjoy taking you down a notch, Shepard," Harkin licked his chops and sidled up to Shepard's back, lowering his pistol slightly. With his free hand he slapped her butt. "Spread 'em nice and slow—"

In that moment Garrus and Shepard moved. Garrus ducked and flicked to the side, uncoiling his long limbs. The human bodyguard on his left had underestimated his reach and before the man could fire Garrus raked his gloved knuckles with his talons. At the same time, Shepard had twisted like a snake, seizing Harkin's gun hand with one of her own and pushing it away from her head. The gun went off with a bang and hit the wall. Shepard drove her other elbow into Harkin's stomach, who let out a silent howl as Shepard squeezed his hand and he dropped his pistol. Garrus was busy avoiding Gaptooth's first sweeping blow, ducking as his shields rose with a resonant hum. He tapped his omni-tool to send the emergency signal but the hologram blinked red. "Damn! They're jamming us, Shepard!"

A leathery fist whistled above his head as Garrus dodged a second blow, drew his pistol, and fired from the hip. The round kissed the krogan's armored crest, who screamed in fury and hurled himself forward. Garrus sidestepped neatly and Gaptooth careened past him, diagonal to Shepard, and crashed into the wall. Suddenly, a hail of impactors smashed into Garrus' shields and he threw himself to the floor, rolling onto his back and returning fire at Fist who ducked behind the desk with a shout of surprise.

From his perspective on the floor Garrus saw Harkin, screaming, fly through the air as Shepard dropped to her knee and flipped him over her head, probably dislocating his arm in the process. Shepard scooped up his gun with her left hand and snapped off five shots against the armed bodyguard, who smashed into the wall leaving a spray of blood.

"Kill them, gaddamit!" Fist yelled as Harkin smashed into the side of his desk with a scream.

Suddenly a pistol appeared in his vision and Garrus' eyes widened—he rolled to the side just as a round smashed into the floor. The first bodyguard swore and fired again, this time catching his shields. Garrus was smashed into the floor by the distributed kinetic energy. Dazed, he scrabbled backwards, but the man turned to fire again… Suddenly a trio of shots took Garrus' attacker in the side and he stumbled slightly—Shepard had saved his life. Seizing the opportunity, Garrus sprang to his feet and fired. The man's shields blew and he fell backwards, dead.

A roar shook the room and an enraged krogan took Garrus from behind and smashed him into the wall. It was like he had been hit by a car. All the breath went out of his lungs. His shields were beeping frantically. Gaptooth seized the back of his cowl like a handle and smashed him into the wall again. Garrus' shields popped and his pistol bounced off the wall and onto the floor. Garrus was spun around to face his killer, the krogan's tiny red eyes narrowed to slits as he put his hands around Garrus' throat. Garrus couldn't breath. His hand rose and he clawed at Gaptooth's scarred arms. Garrus' feet kicked in the air. Past Gaptooth's ugly head Garrus could see Shepard neatly avoiding a series of wild swings by the second krogan. _She's so fast_, _look at her go,_ he thought as his vision started to narrow. His thoughts were going fuzzy._ Hey, she's getting closer. And the other krogan…_

Shepard lured the rage-blind krogan into position and then ducked. Pockmark's fist hit Gaptooth in the back of the crest, who hollered in pain and released Garrus. The turian fell to the floor with a gasp and lay there, stunned.

"Gaddamit! Die, motherfuckers!" Fist hollered.

There was the sound of a mechanical system unfolding into place. Shepard dropped to the floor and took cover as the room filled with fire. Thousands of kinetic rounds filled the air in crimson and orange streams. The air rent apart and the stench of ozone coated Garrus' tongue as he gasped for breath. The two krogan twitched and roared as they were hit over and over, finally toppling to the floor with the impact of a minor earthquake. Suddenly, Shepard grabbed his arm and yanked Garrus forward and he slid along the floor into cover behind the fallen bodies. As his brain restarted Garrus drew in his legs as more bullets flew over their heads. Shepard was crouched behind the dead krogan's crest, which had great pieces town out of the edge. She looked him up and down. "You alright, Vakarian?"

"Who really needs to breathe, Shepard," Garrus croaked, "It's optional, really."

"The signal?"

"Jammed."

"No problem."

"No problem?" Garrus laughed, "Was this in the plan?"

"The plan worked fine," Shepard replied, "We got Fist and Harkin alone and there are no civilians in the way. This is the fun part."

Garrus goggled at Shepard. Suddenly, the hail of fire stopped and Garrus heard a rattling mechanical noise as the turrets reloaded. Harkin laughed, "Fist's men are on their way, sweetheart! You're dead meat."

"I'm going to enjoy this," Shepard said as she removed her jacket and tossed it aside.

Garrus saw the jacket was riddled with holes. Shepard massaged her chest, covered in charcoal pads of light armor. She was breathing lightly and evening. The mechanical movements she had exhibited in the bar had been replaced with an alien grace. She bared her teeth in a feral smile and Garrus felt his heart flip. "Wait for the reload cycle then overload those turrets. I'll cover you."

Garrus nodded, inhaled through his slit nostrils. Bullets snapped through the air above them and then stopped. The turrets on either side of the desk whirred as they loaded a new cartridge box. Garrus jerked upright and launched two EMP rounds. Immediately, the turrets detonated in roiling waves of static and smoke. Shepard had sprung upright at the same moment and popped off a series of shots. They ducked back down before Fist and Harkin could return fire.

"Concussive?" Shepard smiled.

"Just what I was thinking," Garrus chortled, unlimbering his rifle and loading a concussive shot.

Garrus' visor calculated the trajectory and power required. He fired and cylinder arced over the dead bodies and dropped behind the thick desk with a thump. The explosion of light, air, and sound echoed like thunder in the contained room and Shepard was already leaping over the krogan. She slid along the desk and then dropped out of sight with a explosive battle-cry. Someone screamed shrilly. "Fuck, no—no!"

Smoke rose in serpentine columns. Thick blood squelched beneath Garrus' boots as he stepped around the pile of dead bodies. Garrus hesitated, "Shepard?"

Suddenly Shepard snapped upright. She heaved Harkin onto the desk with a crash. "Please, please, don't kill me!" Harkin's nose was bleeding, "D-don't kill me! I'll do anything, you need information, I got it!"

"You good, Shepard?" Garrus asked cautiously.

"I'm great," Shepard put on hand on Harkin's left shoulder and then twisted his arm. "I told you, Harkin. I told you I would break your arms."

Harkin screamed as Shepard dislocated his other shoulder. "You crazy bitch! You fucking chink bitch! You cunt!"

"Do you want me to break your legs?"

Harkin screamed, "Stop, please! What do you want?"

"The quarian. Where is she."

"I don't know! But I know where to find her!" Harkin babbled, "She contacted Fist yesterday and arranged a meeting to sell some information. Fist's men were going to meet her in Maintenance Corridor K-10, Bulkhead 20, in the Lower Wards. But it's going to be Wrex instead. He bought Fist a few hours ago, said there were millions of credits in it for him and Saren would protect him!"

"When?" Shepard demanded.

Harkin started to laugh, and then choked with pain and gasped, "You're too late you fucking bitch. It's in ten minutes. You'll never make it in time. You and your pussy turian are—"

Harkin screamed as Shepard leaned back and then clocked him in the face. He toppled over the end of the desk and fell into a crumpled heap, unconscious.

"Fist?" Garrus asked.

Shepard looked at him. "Dead. There's no time to discuss this Vakarian. Fist had resources. If he came after us he would be a serious liability," Shepard said, "Let's move."

"Right," Garrus muttered, "This is going to be a very…imaginative…report."

"I don't care, C-Sec. That quarian is not going to die!"

Suddenly the door to the office chimed and the holographic panel turned orange. Shepard and Garrus looked at each other. "You take everyone on the left," Garrus said and raised his rifle, "I'll take everyone on the right."

The doors groaned and popped open a crack. Lights played across the smoky room. "Friendlies! On the ground! On the ground!"

Shepard raised a hand, "Friendlies! Do not fire, room is secure!"

The doors were forced open and revealed Alliance Marines. Alarms wailed in the corridor and fire suppressant foam was drifting through the crimson shadows. The lead soldier popped her visor and saluted, "Alpha One! Location is secure."

"Sitrep?" Shepard said, returning her salute.

"We got word from Alpha Two that the target was hostile, ma'am. I thought that you might need reinforcements. They put up resistance but we didn't take any casualties and the civvies cleared out in time."

"You made the right call," Shepard said with a nod, "We have to move, fast. The target's been neutralized and we have a bead on the quarian."

Shepard seized her helmet and rifle from one of her soldiers and then looked at Garrus. "You coming, Vakarian?"

"Right behind you, Shepard."

"Roll out, Marines!"

* * *

The maintenance corridor was deserted. Tali'Zorah sidled through the door and let it slide closed behind her. The lighting was red and dim, and she was grateful for quarian night vision as her eyes widened, causing them to glow even brighter inside her helmet with the reflection of the holographic screens inside her helmet. Her display registered a keeper that was busy repairing a conduit in the wall. Tali wondered if the keepers saw in a different part of the spectrum or if they had originated on a planet with a red sun. _Concentrate on not getting killed, Tali'Zorah. Discover the secrets of the Citadel later._

Tali'Zorah made her way down the corridor, one eye on the asari glyphs on the wall. The meeting was at bulkhead twenty. She was at bulkhead eight. She kept her shotgun raised and her other eye on the corridor, hugging the wall and moving slowly and carefully. She didn't want to tear her wound open again. As she walked the corridor widened in the middle and a series of recessed nooks materialized out of the gloom. Large tubes arced from floor to ceiling inside the recessed space. The engineer in Tali eyed them suspiciously, wondering what sort of purpose they held. She paused and decided to take cover behind in one of the nooks. "This was a bad idea. You should never have agreed to meet here," Tali berated herself, "Somewhere nice and public, what were you thinking? Oh, Ancestors…"

The wait was excruciating. Tali chewed nervously on the end of her nutrient tube and her three toes tapped one after the other on the floor plates. She checked her omni-tool and sighed. Then she heard something—her sensitive toe-pads detected vibrations coming from the other end of the shaft. Tali froze and her breathing stopped. Five sets of footsteps. One heavier and larger than the others—a lot heavier. Tali swallowed. The footsteps approached and then stopped a few meters to her right at bulkhead twenty.

"Where is she?"

"I don't see her. Fist said she'd be here."

"Spread out and find her."

_That means they work for the Shadow Broker_, Tali let out a breath of relief. _You have to do this, Tali. Get off the station and then you can warn the Migrant Fleet._ She gulped and, with a great effort of will, slowly peeled herself from the wall. "I'm coming out, please don't shoot me!"

Tali kept her shotgun pointed at the floor and stepped out into the corridor. She gasped when she saw an enormous krogan with a curving crimson crest riddled with craggy scars; flanking him were four armored men. "Who...who are you?"

"I am Urdnot Wrex," the krogan's lips peeled back from chipped, yellow teeth. "Are you the quarian?"

"What does it look like?" Tali replied, "My name is Tali'Zorah."

"That's good, little girl," Urdnot Wrex said in a voice full of clashing rocks, "If you have the memory core."

Tali hesitated. "Why isn't Fist here himself? He said the Broker could protect me."

"I can protect you," Wrex growled, "I just need to know if you have the memory core."

Something was wrong. Tali inched backwards. "I think I'd like to call Fist and confirm," she said, trying to keep her voice calm and confident.

"You do that, quarian," Wrex said. "That's fine."

Tali bit her lip, "Let me call him, then."

Tali raised her shotgun and braced it on her forearm, simultaneously activating her omni-tool with a click of her tongue. She accessed her communications. Her helmet buzzed and her heart started to race. She continued to back away slowly. Two of the human mercenaries started to follow her and she pointed her shotgun at them. Wrex's thick lip curled, "Don't do anything hasty, quarian. He'll be there."

The helmet buzzed. No one answered. Tali's heart threatened to explode out of her chest. Tali edged towards the wall, walking backwards faster and faster. _I have to run. I have to run! Just—do—it!_

"Get her!" Wrex thundered.

"Gah!" Tali shrieked and sprang backwards.

Tali heard the sound of gunfire and she threw herself into a slide, skidding to a stop and rolling into a nook. She looked back and saw impactors coming from the far end of the corridor and slamming into the mercenaries. Tali could feel something coming through the deck plates—the drumbeat of sure, strong strides. A blur of fire was hurtling down the corridor—a woman, armored in black, darting from cover to cover, followed by three companions.

"SHEPARD!" Urdnot Wrex roared, "You're mine!"

Tali took cover as a storm of fire spattered the corridor like a micrometeorite shower. A pipe exploded in a gout of yellow gas that rapidly filled the corridor. Tali peered into the mist. Shepard's voice echoed out of the fog, "Stand down, Urdnot Wrex. You didn't kill my marine. Don't make me kill you."

"Don't make me laugh, Shepard!"

Tali flinched as a blast of light tore into the steam and huddled against the pipe. Suddenly, a mercenary stepped forward out of the steam right in front of Tali. They stared at each other for a frozen moment and then he raised his gun—Tali fired, the shotgun hammering into her shoulder and sending a knife of pain through her side. The micro-accelerators spun the mercenary around and he stumbled to one knee. Tali fired again convulsively and the mercenary crumple to the deck. Tali moaned as she scrambled backwards to put her back to the wall, her gun shaking. _Oh Ancestors! I killed him._

The roar of gunfire. Men and women shouted and fired. Blue lights flashed and glowing ricochets started to smash into the wall above Tali's head and she screamed. Tali could see dark shapes moving past her in the mist. A storm of sound and fury echoed from further down corridor. A harsh boom pushed a wall of air past Tali's hiding place and the steam was shredded into thin wisps.

Shepard emerged from the sulfurous smoke like a vengeful spirit. Her rifle was cocked on her hip, the barrel glowing with heat like a blade fresh from the forge. Tali's breath caught as Shepard collapsed her rifle and she removed her helmet and tucked it under her arm. A twist of her head sent short red hair hissing through the air. "Good work, Alphas," Shepard said, and her voice was rough, throbbing with leashed strength, "But that's the last time we let Wrex escape!"

Tali stared at her rescuers. The woman was surprisingly short. She had a pale face washed with pale red light from the overhead bulbs—freckles dotted her nose and wide cheekbones like and a lot of white scars that glowed like gnarled flames. Her eyes swept past Tali and then flicked back to her. Tali bit her lip. She looked…hungry. "You. Stow that weapon and get out here."

Tali swallowed. She reckoned that the woman wasn't going to shoot her right after saving her life, but she wasn't sure. "Are, um, are you working for Fist?"

"No," Shepard's mouth closed and then she drew in a deep breath through and started again, "We're here to rescue you. I'm Commander Shepard of the Alliance SSV Normandy and these are my men. And this is Garrus Vakarian."

She gestured towards her companions but kept her eyes on Tali. Tali glanced at her companions, kneeling in a semicircle with their rifles pointed outwards. The turian flicked his mandibles and smiled at her reassuringly. Tali looked back at Shepard and took a deep breath. Unsmiling, Shepard held out her hand. Tali hesitated for a second and then holstered her shotgun and clasped Shepard's hand; the woman drew Tali to her feet in a single motion. Tali gasped and stumbled forward. She put hand on Shepard's sternum to break her fall and her sensitive fingers immediately registered the rapid beat of Shepard's heart. Tali looked up into the woman's green eyes until Shepard took her by the shoulders and pushed her back slightly and coughed politely, "And you are, ma'am?"

"Sorry, sorry," Tali blushed, "I'm Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. But I'm not a ma'am. I'm…oh…"

Tali's hand was still pressed to Shepard's chest; the human's heart was beating like the purr of a powerful engine, and Tali spread her fingers wide and flexed, drinking in the vibrations. Shepard's eyebrows rose and Tali froze. "Calm down, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya." Shepard said softly.

Shepard's voice was solid and unyielding, like a bulkhead against the vacuum, and the sound of her own name made Tali relax slightly. "Thanks," Tali sputtered as she withdrew her hand, "I didn't mean to, well… Um. Thanks, Commander. For saving my life."

"What am I?" Vakarian muttered, "Decoration?"

Shepard laughed—her laugh started out as a hard bark and then, a moment later, became husky, like only then she had just realized she was laughing and she was pleasantly surprised. A laugh that was drawn out from a dark place in Shepard's soul. "That's right, Vakarian. I'm the smart one. You're the pretty one."

"Thanks, Commander," Garrus snorted. He turned towards Tali and looked her up and down. "So, you're the quarian we've been looking for? It took a damn lot of work to find you."

Tali surprised herself with a burst of anger. After everything that had happened, she wouldn't be pushed around. She glared at the turian. "I have a name,! I'm not 'the quarian,' and I wish everyone would just...stop...calling me that..." Tali trailed away as she realized she was yelling at a group of heavily armed soldiers and her visor blinked with purple light as she swallowed. "Meep."

Garrus raised a hand, "Alright, keep your suit on."

"Let her breath, Garrus," Shepard said, "Tali'Zorah, will you return with us to the Human Embassy?"

Tali took a deep breath. "I'm on the station illegally, I don't think that's a good idea. I _really _don't want to be arrested."

Shepard met her eyes. "I promise you will be safe, Tali'Zorah. You're an important asset, do you understand? Vakarian isn't going to arrest you."

Tali bit her lip as she thought. She didn't want to end up in prison. But she wanted to trust Shepard. She did trust her…

"You'll be protected by the Alliance," Shepard reassured her. "The only thing you'll have to worry about is our Ambassador. He's a giant ass, but I'll handle him."

Tali giggled. She couldn't help herself. The giggle became a chortle, and then she was emitting peels of silvery laughter. Relief flooded her from the tips of her toes to the ends of her blonde cilia. Garrus looked faintly confused, raising one brow-plate. "What did you say, Shepard?"

"I think she's in shock."

Tali couldn't stop laughing. "Ow, ow, ow," she gasped, and she collapsed into Shepard's arms again, who caught her with a grunt. Her laughter faded away. Her helmeted head rested on Shepard's shoulder. Shepard patted her shoulder awkwardly.

_Finally, I'm not alone._

* * *

Shepard was very uncomfortable. The asset was literally trembling in her arms. Shepard could just feel the brush of her chest against Shepard's torso. She patted the quarian on the shoulder like she was handling a live grenade. She cleared her throat, "We need to move, ma'am."

"Yes, sorry," Tali hung her head, her helmet speaker flashing with a pink light; she took a step backwards and raised a hand to adjust her embroidered cowl. "Seriously, though, _please _don't call me ma'am."

Tali'Zorah had a lilting accent that reminded Shepard of Russian. Standing upright in her helmet and hood Tali'Zorah was slightly shorter than Shepard. Her purple visor obscured her features; Shepard could just see the tip of her nose and two shining eyes, and Shepard wondered what the girl looked like. Tali'Zorah blinked, and her glowing eyes vanished and then reappeared. The curving line of her long neck was sheathed in a glossy black collar; tarnished silver armor covered her right arm; her supple curves were shrouded in teal and purple. Shepard forced herself to avoid lingering on Tali'Zorah's hips and legs and examined the dead mercenary instead. _Get your head screwed on straight, Janey. She's been shot at. She's been on the run. She's just a kid._ Shepard ran her tongue along the edge of her teeth. She gestured at the sleeve of shotgun shells on Tali'Zorah's left forearm. "Can you handle that?"

"This?" Tali'Zorah touched her gun, "Um, yes. It's a good weapon to use against the geth. You need stopping power because they're so fast. Hit them once or don't hit them at all, that's what Kal'Reegar always says. Uh. I'm still talking. No matter."

"Don't worry." Shepard almost smiled. The girl seemed to be regaining some of her composure, which meant it was time to go. "Alright, people. Let's move!"

She activated her omni-tool and ordered Williams and Alenko to return to base. The screen displayed her soldiers' vital signs and Shepard drew in a quiet, reassured breath. Alpha Five, Daniel Shay, had suffered taken some shrapnel to the left arm but his armor had held. Alpha Six, Orden Laflamme, had required a burst of medi-gel to handle a minor concussion. They had taken no casualties. With a small smile Shepard raised her hand and spun her finger in the air. "We're getting the hell out, people, let's move. Alpha Six, take point. Alpha Five, hang six."

"Um, what about me?" Tali squeaked, rubbing her hands together.

"You're with me, Tali'Zorah. Let's go."

She took the quarian's elbow and guided her down the corridor. Alpha Six activated the door and Garrus swept the corridor with his rifle, "Clear!"

"What are they doing?" Tali'Zorah whispered.

"Checking for surprises," Shepard said.

"Will the bounty hunters come back?"

"I won't lie, it's possible." Shepard summoned another smile but she suspected it looked like a grimace, "But don't worry."

"Easy for you to say!"

"You're going to be fine, Tali'Zorah," Shepard repeated as they hustled down the white-panelled corridor, "We just have to move like we really mean it."

Alpha Squad carefully exited the corridor and descended a Citadel Public Transit tube before entering an air-car shaft. Shepard activated the controls and summoned an air-car. The oval shaft was lined with long blue lights on the metal railing; the curving ceiling was formed by large door with two mechanical arms for storing air-cars. "One minute, people," Shepard said.

Garrus glanced at the quarian and propped his rifle on his shoulder. "Shepard can I talk to you?"

Shepard nodded. "Alpha Six you're on the door, Alpha Five watch Tali'Zorah."

She released the quarian's elbow and Tali'Zorah slumped against the wall with a sigh, cradling her shotgun. Shepard tried to smile again and then joined Garrus at the railing. The hiss of air cooled her cheeks and tugged at her dark hair. Garrus's mandibles flickered. "Shepard, look…Just be careful with the quarian," Garrus buzzed, "I think she has the information we need, but they're…tricky."

"Tricky?" Shepard rolled her eyes, "This is just a kid. She's a victim, Vakarian."

"Just be careful," Garrus repeated, "Don't get too close to her. Quarians always return to the Migrant Fleet, and they take whatever they can back with them."

Shepard felt a stab of pain and anger and her face went blank, "I see. She's a quarian so automatically she's a thief and a liar."

Garrus' mandibles widened, "Shepard, look—"

"That's Commander Shepard," Jane ground out.

Shepard didn't want to be angry with him, but he was dead wrong. Garrus recoiled and they stared at each other.

"We've got company!" Alpha Six let out a shout, "Hostiles coming up in the corridor!"

_Thank God, something to shoot. _Shepard broke eye contact with Garrus and whirled around, leaping towards Tali'Zorah. "Get down!"

Alpha Six opened fire and a second later there was a soft thump as he sent a grenade bouncing down the corridor, following by a sharp boom. "Target is still incoming!" Laflamme roared as he took cover on the right-hand side of the door.

Fire lashed the opening, kinetic impactors tearing chips out of the metal frame. Garrus leaned out and popped off a concussive round. "Damn it, Shepard, we've got one angry krogan eating grenades for rations, here!"

Shepard pressed Tali against the left wall. She could feel the quarians chest rising and falling with quick, nervous breaths and she spared a moment to pat her shoulder, "Breathe. It's going to be fine. Five, you stay with Tali."

The tanned marine nodded and moved into position to cover the asset with his body. Shepard's chest felt tight with a sudden, unfamiliar, worry, but she ignored the feeling and sucked in a steadying breath and popping her combat drugs. The chemicals roared through her bloodstream like a cyclone. Shepard moved swiftly along the wall to the doorway and slapped Garrus' armored cowl to let him know she was behind him. "Six hostiles," Garrus murmured, "Urdnot Wrex and his crew. Wrex is covering them with his biotic barriers and their moving up the corridor, and his damn hand-cannon is tearing through the wall!"

"Ten meters!" Alpha Six growled.

An air-car rose out of the depths of the shaft and a hot wind washed over Shepard, drying her sweat and sending copper locks tumbling past her eyes. The doors opened automatically as it landed on the pad. "That's our ride and we have to catch it," Shepard said, "Vakarian, you drop smoke, Alpha Six, grenade on my mark. Then I'll seal the door and we move for the vehicle."

Enemy fire chewed a hole in the floor and fragments of melted plating splattered across Shepard's boots. Tali'Zorah gasped, "Oh, Ancestors, I can hear them coming!"

"Six meters!"

Shepard unfolded her pistol, then took a step backwards from Vakarian. "Launch smoke!"

Vakarian's rifle spat out a smoke round and it rebounded down the corridor, trailing glittering white mist. The mercenaries returned fire.

"Mark!"

The grenade spun into the hall and exploded and there was a moment of stunned silence punctuated by the roar of an angry krogan. Shepard leaped towards the door and grunted as a stray round chipped her armored shoulder before she waved her omni-tool and the door slid together and she jammed the locking mechanism. "That won't hold them for long, move it!" Shepard roared, "Vakarian, take the controls!"

Vakarian vaulted the railing and slid into the driver's compartment. Shepard grabbed Tali's arm and hustled the quarian into the rear compartment. Behind them, something hit the door with a boom and the metal buckled, sparks as the holographic control flickered and died. The marines clambered into the car and surrounded Tali with a wall of armor. Shepard slid along the hood and then dropped onto the other side and into the passenger seat. She unlimbered her rifle and toggled phasic rounds. "Spin the car!"

Vakarian lifted the car off the landing pad and rotated them 180 degrees just as the doors blew open, one panel sliding along the floor with a screech, and Wrex, wreathed in blue flames, leaped onto the landing platform. His clawed feet dug into the deck as he fired his shotgun and the underbelly of the car bucked violently. Shepard braced, sighted, and fired, the rifle cracking against her shoulder. The windows cracked and Tali screamed. The phasic round penetrated Wrex's impressive shields like a superheated knife and the Krogan was spun backwards. Shepard fired again, aiming for the throat, but the car jerked and she hit Wrex's shoulder. The krogan let out an ear-splitting roar. The mercenaries emerged from the smoky corridor and started firing, most of the shots going wide as the turbines hummed and Vakarian raised the vehicle, "Come on, Shepard, let's get out here."

Jane ignored him. While Laflamme broke his window and returned fire, sending the mercenaries diving for cover behind the railing, chemical focus narrowed Shepard's vision to Urdnot Wrex. She breathed out and massaged the trigger. The rifle shot sent her smashing back into the seat. She sensed the shot find its target. She _felt_ the round cut through shields and into leathery flesh, ripping open his throat and sending the massive fighter stumbling backwards.

"Take us out, now!"

Garrus didn't need any encouragement. He gunned the engines and in moments they had left Urdnot Wrex behind. Shepard folded her rifle and crashed back into the seat with a sour smile. She knew Urdnot Wrex wasn't dead. Phasic rounds didn't have enough stopping power to overwhelm his regenerative ability. But missing most of his throat should keep him from pursuing them any further, at least for today. She checked her readouts and saw that no one had taken further injuries. "You okay, Tali'Zorah?"

Tali'Zorah was breathing hard. "I think…I reopened my wound."

"We'll get you patched up," Shepard said. "It's over for now."

"If we don't get arrested driving this hunk of junk," Garrus said as his talons tightened on the controls.

Tali'Zorah laughed. "Ow."

Shepard was impressed by her composure. "Necessary risks, Vakarian. Just take us in nice and slow."

"I know, Shepard." Vakarian replied. "Here we go!"

They exited the tube and entered a metal canyon surmounted by the lines of achingly tall skyscrapers. Cars, shuttles, and tankers buzzed past them as they joined the flow of traffic. Shepard craned her neck and tried to smile at the quarian. Tali'Zorah was holding her slender waist with one three-fingered hand, her eyes seemingly closed leaving her visor a purple mask. But Shepard almost though she could see the contours of a pale face inside the tinted helmet, a young face, drawn with pain. Tali's chest rose and fell imperceptibly with shallow breaths.

Shepard checked the cameras and saw no sign of pursuit. "Don't worry, Tali'Zorah, you're safe now," Jane replied, "Trust me. You're safe."

* * *

Urdnot Wrex pushed his own jaw back into position with a grunt. With a pop the heavy bone socketed into place and he could feel the muscles bubbling as they reattached, squirming beneath his thick skin like maggots. His clawed hand brushed against the yellow-orange mass of his throat and he grimaced, the fresh tissue flaring with pain. His throat was covered in a shiny translucent secretion, a protective membrane of mucus that oozed down his armor, already spattered with yellow blood. His breaths felt like cold knives against his burning flesh.

Shepard had almost severed his spinal column, which would have been extremely annoying, if not fatal to a krogan. His body was was capable of surviving without being fully connected to his primary brain during the regeneration process. However, if she had been using High Explosive or thermal rounds, a shot right under his jaw plates stood a good chance of stopping him, maybe even permanently. She was a good shot. Wrex grunted and shook his head, reveling in the strain it put on his throat. He was alive.

He activated the holographic communicator and prepared to face his employer. Almost immediately, Saren Arterius appeared. A wave of orange light passed through the hologram as he leaned forward, his eyes glowing pits. "Report."

"I don't have her," Urdnot Wrex rasped. "She got away."

"She got away," Saren tasted the words and then his mandibles flared and he roared, "She got away! You let her escape!"

"I didn't let her do anything. It was Shepard. She retrieved the quarian."

Shepard had proven to be a formidable adversary. She was a tiny human, but she was fast, and a very good shot. A combination that Urdnot Wrex thought was very annoying. Wrex chuckled to himself. Shepard had attitude. She thought like a krogan. She stood up and challenged him. If Shepard had been a krogan, well…

"I don't care how good she is, Wrex," Saren said. "This is unacceptable. You failed me."

"I lost five good men, Saren!" Wrex snarled.

"I don't care. I order you to attack their ship and finish the job!"

"I won't do that, sir," Wrex shook his colossal head, "If you want someone for a suicide mission hire some grunt fresh off Tuchanka. If you want the job done right, then leave me alone."

Saren paced back and forth, his talons curling and uncurling. "How dare you! I'm paying you—"

"You're paying me because I'm the best."

"I did not think the renowned Urdnot Wrex was a coward!"

Wrex's lip curled. "There's no guarantee an attack on their position would succeed. They're on high alert, and C-Sec will be watching. A good hunter knows how to wait for his prey. Shepard has to leave the Citadel, eventually."

Saren was silent for a moment. His fingers flexing and curling. "Very well," he spat, "You may wait. But do not fail me again, krogan, or you will never see the…true fate…of the krogan people."

Saren barked a laugh and Wrex frowned. His gut was twitching, but Wrex forced himself to ignore it. He had been paid, and he never broke a contract. The Battle Master let out a blast of stinking air from his nostrils. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Burn the Citadel operation. Leave no trace of your presence," Saren whispered, "Do you understand what that means?"

"Yeah," Wrex said, "I got it."

"Contact me when you are in the clear and I will transmit new orders."

"Saren, I can take Shepard," Wrex growled, "I just need a clear shot."

"Very well," Saren replied, "She'll come after me, I know she will…And when she does, you'll have your chance. One. Last. Chance."

Wrex exited the communications chamber and entered the warehouse, sighing heavily. He scanned the room. His remaining men were sitting around a table playing Skyllian Blitz. On the other side of the room, he had a motley crew of freelancers. As far as they know the Battle Master was their sole employer. Wrex grunted sourly and stomped over to his men, who looked up from their game. A series of liquor bottles were scattered among the cards, piles of poker chips, and two ashtrays full of cigarette butts. His men were pissed—he had lost five more today, and only four were left. Kwon downed a shot then saluted with the empty glass, "Hey, boss, we ready to hit back? Take the fight to them!"

"We're not," Wrex shook his head, "We're pulling out."

"Fuck! Come on, boss!"

"I'll get my chance, so you will you," Wrex replied "But the Citadel ain't the place, unless you want to end up in Purgatory. Now, we gotta clean house."

"The freelancers?"

The Battle Master looked across the dark warehouse. His boss wanted him to kill all these posers. But it didn't sit right with him. "They don't know anything. Run 'em through the cleaner, pay 'em and cut 'em loose."

"Your call, boss. We'll get on it."

"Good."

The krogan sighed heavily and picked at his yellow teeth with a claw. Saren wasn't going to like it. But he was the Battle Master here. He knew the situation on the ground. Wrex could live with Saren's displeasure—unless Saren tried to kill him. Wrex was troubled by the thought. If Saren tried to kill him then Wrex could consider his contract cancelled, which appealed to him, but he would lose the cure to the genophage, which would be unfortunate. The kogran blew air out of his nostrils. He would worry about that latter.

Wrex narrowed his red eyes. Really, this was all Shepard's fault. She had stolen the quarian right from under him. A short laugh escaped the krogan's chest. The tiny human truly was an impressive warrior. Too bad he was being paid to kill her.

_You beat me this time, Shepard. But I'll be sure to see you again._

* * *

**Codex: Aliens: Non-Council Races/Krogan/Battle Masters**

_The toughest and most feared krogan in existence are Krogan Battle Masters. Tough, disciplined, and well-armed, a single Battle Master is more than a match for a hundred soldiers of any other species. For Battle Masters killing is a science. They focus on developing clean, brute-force economy of motion that exploits their brutal strength to incapacitate enemies with a swift single blow. With their massive strength they can carry weapons that deliver overwhelming power matched only by artillery for other species. _

_Battle Masters emerged in the aftermath of the nuclear holocaust that destroyed Tuchanka. In the scrabble for survival, the strongest and most powerful krogan led their brothers in the constant battle for resources and territory. However, Battle Masters were not just clan chiefs. Battle Masters developed killing as a science to focus and refine their racial impulses. Battle Masters were officers in the krogan military and used fear and intimidation to control their eager troops. To prevent chaos, command and control was very centralized; soldiers in the field who saw a target contacted their commanders behind the lines to arrange fire support. The Battle Master was the unique krogan solution to chaos and a necessary check on their violent impulses: ruthless and violent but methodical and disciplined. Never again would the krogan unleash nuclear annihilation in foolish anger—only as a stratagem. _

_Battle Masters are not "spit and polish", but they do believe in being well-armed and equipped, preferably with a gun for each limb. They are callous and brutal, but methodical and disciplined. They use any means at their disposal to achieve their goals, no matter how reprehensible. In the aftermath of the genophage, Battle Masters developed new tactics to minimize krogan losses. Hostage-taking and genocide are acceptable means to ensure victory with few krogan casualties. _  
[Updated 29-May-2016]


	11. Aftermath (One)

**Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**

**2183.07.15**

Tali'Zorah squirmed underneath the spotlight. Her visor had polarized slightly and and her eyes were adjusting to the bright light. But something deep in her evolutionary psychology was averse to the glare. Her cilia tingled and only the cooling system inside her suit kept the sweat from collecting on her skin. She glanced around the white room. Venari Pallin, Executor of Citadel Security, was sitting across from her, his bony elbows resting on the white table. Next to him was the Ambassador for the Systems Alliance, Donnel Udina. Standing at the head of the table with his arms crossed was Shepard's Captain, named David Anderson. The only reason that Tali wasn't screaming with fear was the fact that Commander Shepard was sitting right next to her on a metal chair, leaning back with her arms folded across her chest. They had gathered in a small office located inside the Alliance Embassy. Tali had been nervous at first, but now she was simply exasperated and tired—while Shepard looked ready to pounce.

Ambassador Udina's eyes flicked across the room and met her own. His arms were folded and his black eyes glowered beneath shaggy grey brows. His lip curled and Tali flinched and looked down at the table. Udina had not been happy to see Commander Shepard and her team, and he had been even less happy to see C-Sec. However, Shepard had been true to her word. The Ambassador had agreed to grant Tali asylum in exchange for her information. Once they had downloaded the data to an OSD and Shepard had consulted with her captain, the Ambassador had put in a call and the Executor had arrived to interview her. Tali's hands curled around her knees. It felt more like an interrogation.

"Let's go over this one more time," Executor Pallin murmured, "You claim that the geth attack on Eden Prime was led by the Spectre Saren Arterius. A preposterous story based on a memory core you salvaged, on your own, from a geth vessel. Why should I believe you? Isn't it more likely, Ambassador, that this…quarian…merely invented this story and fabricated the information in order to claim asylum with the Systems Alliance?"

"That's impossible," Captain Anderson said swiftly, "Miss Zorah arrived on the Citadel the day before we arrived. She had no way of knowing what had happened on Eden Prime. This evidence corroborates what we've been saying, Executor. Saren Arterius was there, on Eden Prime, he led the attack!"

"However unexpected it might be, the quarian is telling the truth, Executor." Donnel Udina said.

Tali flushed at the backhanded insult.

"Is that so?" Executor Pallin sneered, "It is far more likely that the quarian discovered your efforts and altered her story to match the details. There's no proof. Only her word."

"There is proof," Commander Shepard retorted, "You're just refusing to see it!"

"Shepard, you're not helping!" Udina growled.

Pallin bristled. "I've heard enough of your insults and slanders since you arrived on the station, Shepard. This is just one more lie."

"That's not fair, Executor!" Captain Anderson barked, "The Commander was responding entirely to Arterius' provocations and you know it! I know for a fact that you don't like him any more than we do, so why don't you look at the evidence! Your own agent—"

"Centurion Vakarian will be disciplined for his actions," the Executor interrupted. He folded his talons together and stared at Shepard. "I don't like your kind, Commander. Humans are unprepared for the responsibility of being a member of the Council. Spectres are bad enough as it is—but you? You're little more than a hired killer. Nihlus died on a fool's errand trying to prove you are anything more than a savage brute."

Tali quivered with anger but she pressed her lips shut. She hated the fact that the Executor was lying about the woman that had saved her life, that had believed her, truly believed her. She glanced at Shepard, who leaned back in her seat with a sneer, "Despite your best efforts, Pallin, she's trying to help you. You don't need to like me, Pallin. You just need to look at the evidence."

"That's right, Commander," Udina said, "Executor, perhaps a compromise can be reached. If you take the memory core and conduct an independent analysis…?"

Shepard grimaced. Captain Anderson put a heavy hand on Commander Shepard's shoulder. Ambassador Udina spread his palms, "It's a simple solution. Conduct your own analysis on the original data. See for yourself and we'll bring it before the Council."

Pallin paused for a moment and then stood. "If you insist on continuing with this charade, I am forced to examine the disk, by law. But I _doubt_ that I will discover anything of value."

The turian general and the ambassador left the room. Tali saw a look of mingled rage and, somehow, sorrow, pass across Shepard's face. "You've been warned," the marine whispered, "You've been warned."

Tali'Zorah thought she was the only one who heard it. She shivered; she, too, knew what was coming. Suddenly, the Commander stood, sparing Tali a single reassuring glance, and left the conference room, pounding her fist into the door on her way out. Tali stood nervously and hesitated, unsure if she should follow. Captain Anderson nodded at her. "I'll talk to her, Miss Zorah. Thank you for your assistance, you've done the Systems Alliance and the galaxy a great service today."

"Thank you," Tali mumbled, "Really, it was nothing, really."

Captain Anderson smiled. "Don't sell yourself short, Miss Zorah. Now, we'll be arranging accommodations and protection for you shortly, if you would please wait here in the Embassy while I talk with my crew."

"Of course," Tali nodded, "Thank you, Captain!"

Captain Anderson escorted her out the door and Tali left the conference room in a daze. _Was it really over? _She stumbled to the railing and slumped against the balustrade, looking out across the Presidium. She could never have imagined that she would be here, at the heart of galactic civilization. Tali was staggered by the prodigious waste of resources that the Presidium represented and the contrast with the scarcity and deprivation faced by the quarian people. Tali considered the dire proclamation she had heard on the disk and wondered if, soon, they would all be homeless and scattered to the solar winds.

For now, it was over. She felt completely drained. She didn't have to look over her shoulder for hired guns and, finally, her thoughts had caught up with her. Dark terrors that she had held at bay while she was busy running for her life. Speaking of which—Tali'Zorah leaned her hip against the rail and winced as she probed her wounded side. before injecting medi-gel into the lateral medical port (each compartment of her suit had different medical ports to minimize potential contamination) and groaning with relief.

She looked sideways down the railing. Captain Anderson and Commander Shepard were speaking quietly after the explosive argument in the conference room. The Captain had his hand on Shepard's elbow. She looked furious, but after a moment she saluted. Anderson returned her salute with a sad smile and then left. As soon as his back was turned Shepard's hands slammed down on the balustrade and she clenched her fists. Tali hesitated for a moment and then rose, deactivating her visor's holographic displays to clear her field of vision, and hobbled along the balcony. Commander Shepard had her forehead pressed to her forearms. Tali slid into position next to the Commander. "I wanted to thank you, Commander."

"You've already thanked me, Tali'Zorah. A hundred times." Shepard's voice was muffled and her hair fell over her ears and face.

Tali flinched. Her lips parted but she couldn't take a breath. "Oh, I'm…sorry."

"Ah, damn it." Shepard raised her head slowly and Tali gasped. Shepard's nose was bleeding beneath pinched brows and hard eyes. Tali was mesmerized by the line of dark blood that followed the bow of Shepard's upper lip. The Commander wiped at her mouth with a shaking hand and then shook her head. "Don't worry about that."

"But, but…the blood!"

"Not your concern," Shepard said, locking eyes with Tali, "Listen. I'm the one who's…sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I'm coming down from combat and my head is killing me. I'm angry, but I'm not angry at you."

Tali couldn't bear Shepard's gaze any longer. She lowered her visor and stared the railing. "You…don't have to apologize to me, I owe you my life."

"Hey…"

Tali looked up slowly. One corner of Shepard's bloody lips were raised in a slanted smile. Her smile was a flash of lightning in the darkness—hot and bright as the sun, and just as dangerous. "You risked your life for everyone in the galaxy, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. We all owe you."

"You don't! I had to help, it was my pilgrimage!" Tali replied breathlessly.

Shepard gave a harsh laugh. "Did you even listen to yourself in that interview? I heard what you did. Trust me, Tali'Zorah, most people would not have done half of that."

Tali blushed, and Shepard looked away and stared out at the glittering fountains. After a moment, Shepard said, "You know, Tali'Zorah, I've been meaning to ask you… Why did you do it? You could have done something less dangerous."

"That's the point," Tali said softly, "I have to prove that I'm ready. To the Fleet, and to my father."

"Your father?"

"He's…an important man. He's the patriarch of Clan Zorah," Tali said, "But I'm explaining this badly, oh, Ancestors…"

"Take your time," Shepard said, "Hell, that's all we have right now."

Tali's hands fluttered nervously. "Well, the Pilgrimage isn't just a rite of passage. Everyone has to pay a price to join a ship as an adult. The captains set the price, and I needed a lot of money to join a ship my father would approve of."

"I see," Shepard replied. "That doesn't seem…fair."

"It brings new resources into the Fleet! Well, some clans cheat and send their children money to bring back, but it's rare, because every quarian knows that everyone has to carry their own weight or the ship is in danger," Tali replied, "Most quarians go to Illium or Omega and work for their price. Because of our suits we're good workers in gas plants and mines, scrapyards and recycling centers—and, uh, let's say sanitation engineers. All the jobs no one else wants."

Shepard laughed and then she shook her head, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. That was a joke, Shepard." Tali smiled. "I could have done that, but…some people find another way. They find new technologies from Citadel Space, or new navigational charts. But best of all? Information about the geth. I could join any ship I want!"

"And prove your worth to your father?" Shepard asked softly. "He shouldn't…Never mind. What do I know. Thank you for telling me that, Tali'Zorah. I'm impressed."

"You're welcome," Tali said, "But don't be impressed! I barely survived on Lattesh, it was a pretty risky move."

Tali was looking at Shepard's profile. The graceful line of her cheekbones beneath slanted eyes, partly closed. The drifting fringe of red hair. The tip of her nose glowing with sunlight. It was amazing how similar, on the surface, quarians and humans were—even more similar than the asari.

"It got me here," Tali said, "So it was a good move, I guess."

"It put you in danger," Shepard shook her head, "You've done your duty. Now you can return to the Migrant Fleet where you'll be…safe."

Tali hesitated. Shepard's voice had dropped an octave. She was staring into the distance with an expression of utmost concentration, like she was listening to something. Finally, Tali shook her head. "Safe, Commander? I don't understand half of what I discovered on that memory core, Commander, but I'm pretty sure that nowhere is safe. Saren and the Reapers are a danger to the entire galaxy. I may have been a little foolish going after the geth, but now I know what's at stake. What does it say about me if I turn my back on this?"

Shepard sighed, "You're just a kid—"

"No!" Tali shook her head, "I'm not a child! I'm twenty years old and I can handle myself. You…you need me to help you against the geth!"

"It's dangerous. We're on our own," Shepard shook her head, "The Council isn't doing anything except classifying very last scrap of information on the Beacon. No one knows that the Reapers exist except you and the crew of the Normandy—and Saren."

"I heard what's coming, Commander. I want to help!" Tali's breath caught.

Shepard paused for a long moment. Then the darkness closed in across her pale face and she seemed to make a decision. "I'll use all the help I can get, Tali'Zorah. I shouldn't, but I have to. Welcome aboard."

"You won't regret this, Commander," Tali whispered, "And, please, call me Tali,"

"If you're ready to do this you can call me Shepard. Tali."

Commander Shepard put out her hand. Tali took it, and the Commander's tight, warm fingers sent a frisson of shock through Tali's biofeedback system. "I'm ready, really! Thank you, Shepard."

* * *

Garrus Vakarian stared into space directly above Executor Pallin's spines. The Executor was spitting with anger and his crest rattled with rage. Standing to one side of the desk were Garrus' superiors in a silent wall of polished uniforms and glittering medals, their painted faces revealing a combination of shame and anger. Garrus tried to ignore the burning stare of his commanding officer, Tribune Lidus Zaron. Garrus had been a thorn in his side for too long, and the head of Investigation Division in Kithoi Ward viewed Garrus' failure as a personal triumph. He nodded at every word the Executor spoke, licking his jaw plate with an eager tongue.

"…you were completely unprofessional and undisciplined. I told you to terminate your investigation, Vakarian, and you disobeyed direct orders!"

"Yes, sir," Garrus intoned.

There was nothing he could say that would change Executor Pallin's mind. He was correct, Garrus had disobeyed direct orders. It didn't matter than Garrus had been right about Saren, that he had needed more time to uncover Saren's treachery. It didn't matter what Garrus and Shepard had accomplished, no, all that mattered was that Garrus had done it the wrong way. He had broken the rules.

_Father will be so proud. It's nothing more than what he expected_, Garrus mused. He considered the chain of events of the past three days that had led him to this point—what just might be the end of his career. It had all started when the news of the assault on Eden Prime had broken on the Extranet. Garrus had been disgusted by the common response amongs his comrades, his superiors nodding their heads and fluttering their mandibles in satisfaction at the humiliation inflicted on the humans. Then the Alliance had accused Saren Arterius of involvement in the attack on Eden Prime, and Garrus was commanded to investigate their story. Garrus remembered the shiver that had run from his spines to his keel when he heard the news. Saren Arterius was a sinister legend even in C-Sec, a ruthless killer who left a trail of innocent bodies behind him in his single-minded pursuit of his goals. He knew the man was guilty, he just needed time to investigate… Garrus almost laughed out loud. Shepard had done the right thing going after Saren on her own. _I was a fool. Pallin never wanted me to catch Saren. I thought that he had assigned me this case because he wanted to succeed, because his hatred of Saren's dirty tricks would outweigh his loyalty to the Council, but I was wrong. He follows the rules—even when they're wrong. Now, I'm paying the price._

"Under any other circumstances you would be discharged and sent home in disgrace," Executor Pallin said.

Garrus' attention snapped back to his commanders. There was no way to be honorably discharged from the turian military. Every turian remained on the roster of the reserves and and even injured or disabled turians were retained to serve support functions; if a turian was truly discharged it was because they were a criminal or a failure. They were struck from the duty roster of their colony and became a bareface, a worthless wretch clinging to the edges of turian society. But the Executor hadn't actually dismissed him and Garrus cleared his throat "I take it, sir, that what you're really saying is that I haven't been discharged?"

The assembled officers began spitting and hissing and Zaron snarled, "Watch your tongue, Centurion!"

The Executor raised a hand and they fell silent. "Pending the outcome of my personal analysis of the memory core you're still a member of Citadel Security. As such, I expect you to obey every order and follow every regulation, to the letter—do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear, sir."

"Of course," Pallin said, mandibles flashing in a smile, "You are suspended as of this instant and I have reduced your rank to Decurion, pending review."

Garrus talons snapped tight into fists. "Sir, you—"

"Not another word, Vakarian," Executor Pallin said, "I don't care what you found with that human woman, you broke a hundred regulations. These rules exist for a reason, Vakarian, they exist to protect the integrity of the law. You serve the law, the law does not serve you."

The officers were nodding and murmuring agreement. Zaron's tongue and mandibles fluttered with glee. Garrus nostrils flared with distaste and then he settled back into parade rest. It was useless. He was fighting a one-man war against the army of bureaucracy, and he was losing. "Is there anything else, sir?"

"Hand in your badge and return your weapons to the Armory. Go home, Vakarian, you're not wanted here."

Garrus' jaw-plates ground together. Hand in his gun to the quartermaster? It was a calculated insult. The Executor may have been unable to discharge Garrus, but he had inflicted the next-worst insult. Turians lived and died with their rifles. Garrus' hand hovered over his weapon; over the years, Garrus had calibrated his rifle to his exact specifications and loaded it with specialized ammunition and software. Giving it up was like cutting off his arm. But he had no choice.

"Well, if I've been suspended then I can speak freely. Sir."

"Vakarian, be very, very careful. You're future depends on your next words."

"I don't care about my future in C-Sec, _sir_," Garrus retorted, "Not if you don't listen to me! I don't care what you think about me, and I don't care what you think about humans. You're the Executor, _sir._ You're supposed to protect the Citadel from traitors like Saren."

"More human lies!" Zaron hissed, "Hold your tongue!"

"I will not hold my tongue!" Garrus replied, "You need to look at the data and I know you will. You know why? Because you're a turian, and we always do our duty."

With calculated precision Garrus saluted. Pallin's mandibles quivered once, and then he rose to his full height, spines shaking. "Is that it, Vakarian?"

"Yeah, I think that about covers it."

"Then get out of my sight."

Garrus turned on his heel and marched out of the office. He was so sick of rules for the sake of rules. He walked swiftly down the corridor, eager to escape from headquarters. "Decurion Vakarian!"

Garrus' mandibles flared and kept walking. "What do you want, Zaron!"

"Is that any way to address your commanding officer!" Zaron snarled, putting his hand on Garrus shoulder. "Salute, Decurion!"

Garrus whirled and almost unsheathed his talons, but at the last moment he restrained himself. He gave a mocking salute and knocked his calf spurs together, "Decurion Vakarian saluting as ordered, Tribune Zaron."

Zaron was a martinet who was stickler for the letter of the regulations. He had hated Garrus for years, assigning him what he believed were the worst cases involving non-council races or humans. Garrus didn't mind being assigned to those cases, however; it gave him an opportunity to get some justice for the people that C-Sec neglected. It was when Zaron denied Garrus critical resources that they had truly clashed. Zaron repeatedly refused to authorize Garrus' requests for network specialists, support workers, or enforcement squads when Garrus needed to take down a suspect. Consequently, Garrus had often gone in alone without backup rather than letting a perpetrator get away. Some days it seemed like Zaron wanted Garrus to get killed. Now, Garrus was done, either way.

"I knew this day would come," Zaron said, "The day you finally went too far. I'm just surprised that no civilians are dead due to you, Garrus."

"I'm surprised no civilians are dead due to you, sir," Garrus retorted, "The number of times you refused my requests for backup? You abused your power and it made me sick."

"How dare you…speak to me in that manner!" Zaron raged, "I'll have you under review!"

"I'm already under review," Garrus said with a chuckle, "You'll have to do better than that, sir."

"If I can't have you discharged I'll see you broken in rank until you resign on your own, you hear me? Your father's reputation can't protect you this time."

"I never wanted anything from my father, Zaron," Garrus said, "And he never expected anything from me."

"Well he was right, then, Vakarian! You're nothing, you're done!" Zaron spat.

Garrus felt a frisson of fear, despite himself. Zaron was right—even if he hung onto his job, his superiors would squeeze him until he wanted to resign on his own. It was all over. Suddenly, Garrus felt like laughing. "You know what, Zaron? I'm going to take some time off," Garrus chuckled, "As for you, Zaron, you're a bureaucrat, a fool, and a coward. This is the only time I'm ever going to say this, so listen closely. You're right...I am done."

Garrus turned on his heel and walked away. He walked away from Zaron, who shouted uselessly at his back; he walked away from the Executor's warnings. Garrus walked away from Citadel Security, and he didn't look back.

[Updated 29-May-2016]


	12. Aftermath (Two)

**SSV Normandy, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**

**2183.07.15**

The overhead light hummed as Shepard puked into the stainless steel toilet. Her throat felt like someone had forced her to drink noxious chemicals and her lips and teeth burned with acid. Electric shocks made her body twitch with every dry heave as alien images and words flashed across her eyes. Her vision was tinted with green light. Insects were crawling and buzzing inside her ear canal with a cacophony of screams and whispers. Her stomach heaved but she had nothing left. _Warn them…_

"I'll get right on that." Shepard muttered as she flushed several times and the vacuum toilet siphoned the vomit into the drain.

The drain of energy as the adrenaline rush wore off had weakened her mental defenses and the voice had been getting stronger. The cycle between combat and downtime was getting more vicious: the high was higher, the low was lower, and she loved every chemically attenuated minute. Shepard wiped her mouth and felt the smile pulling the muscles of her face into unfamiliar patterns. It faded quickly, like it always did after the adrenaline left her bloodstream. But this time, she was trapped with a voice in her head. At the least, the information on the memory core meant that she wasn't going crazy because an alien artifact had melted her brains. Shepard couldn't rule out the idea that she and Saren suffered from the same exact delusion, but she believed that the Prothean Beacons were trying to tell them something, and Shepard knew she had to listen.

Shepard didn't have the time. She had already debriefed Alpha Squad and reported briefly to Captain Anderson. The captain was dealing with the fallout from her actions on the Citadel and Shepard was grateful for the cover her mentor was providing. She couldn't deal with Udina right now. At least they had rescued the quarian and stowed her safely on the Normandy. The crew had been recalled and the ship was locked down just in case the bounty hunter, Wrex, made another run at her. Shepard had made sure they were disconnected from station air and power and Joker had his finger on the kinetic barriers. It was a drain on the ship's resources, but if Wrex was as good as they said, Shepard couldn't risk a gas attack or a missile. She had done all she could, but that was never enough for Jane—now they had to save the galaxy from killer cyborgs.

Despite the fatigue that made her bones feel like lead weights, Jane Shepard dragged herself upright. She stared into the mirror. She had changed back into her ODU and Shepard tugged at the padded blue shirt checking for signs of vomit—it looked good. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for her face. A spot of dark blood was crusted to her left nostril and sweat was beading on her nose, cheeks, and forehead. Her freckles stood out against her bone-white skin like a negative image of the stars. Jane sighed, dragged a hand through her black hair and then, holding her hair back with one hand, splashed freezing water on her mouth and nose. Rubbing at her teeth with a finger she grimaced and the mumbled at the mirror, "What are you looking at, Janey? This is different. I can't get help, I'd be kicked out, remember?"

She spat into the sink.

Shepard left the head and headed back to the mess. Lieutenant Alenko and Tali'Zorah had joined her at the mess table and Shepard's abandoned mess tray sat beside them; Gunnery Chief Williams was standing beside them.

"…still can't believe it. After all that work, we're still sitting here twiddling our thumbs waiting for the Council to make its decision," Lieutenant Alenko murmured.

"You're telling me," Tali'Zorah breathed, "I was this close to joining the Ancestors and now, nothing."

Ashley Williams shook her head, "We risk our lives every day, quarian."

"Tali'Zorah!" Tali snapped, "Is it really so hard to remember my name?"

"Yeah?" Williams said, "Why don't you show some gratitude to the humans that pulled your ass—"

Shepard came up behind them and smacked the table with her palm. "That's enough."

Shepard let her gaze fall on each of her men in turn. Lieutenant Alenko looked slightly guilty while Ashley Williams radiated resentment. Tali hung her head and her speaker glowed, "I'm sorry, Shepard."

"We're all in this together," Shepard said, "Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ashley Williams spat, "Permission to get some rack time, Commander?"

Shepard paused. She really didn't want to deal with this shit right now. "Granted. Dismissed, Chief."

They saluted stiffly and the Chief headed for the elevator. As soon as she was out of earshot, Tali sighed. "What's jammed in her intake vent?"

Kaiden choked and Shepard smothered a laugh. "Tali, you're a civilian on this ship so you're allowed to say whatever you want, but I expect respect for every crewmember. Gunnery Chief Williams has been through hell. She lost a lot of friends on Eden Prime."

"Oh…I'm sorry," Tali mumbled, "I understand."

Shepard examined the girl's visor for moment. The set of the quarian's slender shoulders and long, three-fingered hands told her enough. "Thank you, Tali. I apologize for Gunnery Chief Williams' actions. I won't let it happen again."

"I'm used to it," Tali shrugged, "It's okay."

"It is not okay," Shepard snapped. "It is never okay. Never stop fighting back, you hear me?"

Tali looks up, her visor brimming with twin pools of liquid light, "I won't, Shepard. I won't."

"Good," Shepard swallowed and changed the subject. "Alenko—talk to Williams."

"I can try, ma'am," Kaidan replied.

Shepard nodded. She understood what the chief was going through, but she had a job to do and Wiliams could shape up or ship out. She moved on. "You did fine work today, Alenko. You secured a meeting with Barla Von and got word to Williams that Fist had betrayed the Broker and she came in hard and fast."

"I was just doing my duty, ma'am," Kaiden smiled.

"You got us the information we needed and made a valuable contact," Shepard said, "You keep doing your duty like that, Alenko, and you'll have my job."

"Never, ma'am!"

"For now, I'm still the Commander," Shepard handed Kaidan a data-pad, "These are requisition forms for tungsten ammunition, electro-optical scanners, and high explosives. When you're done leave a copy on my terminal. And don't forget I need that AAR by 0700."

No one enjoyed filing their After Action Reports (AAR), but everyone had to do them; Shepard still had to write her own report for Captain Anderson. Alenko laughed. "Aye, aye, ma'am. I'll have it on your terminal by 0600."

"Don't get cocky, Alenko, or I'll give you even more work to do."

Kaidan smiled, "You love making my life miserable."

"You got it, Alenko. I can't wait to read more reports."

Shepard paused when the intercom chimed and and the Normandy VI announced, "Commander Shepard and Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, please report to the Captain. Commander Shepard and Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, please report to the Captain."

She frowned. "That's us, Lieutenant. Tali, come with me."

Shepard exchanged salutes with the lieutenant and led the quarian towards the captain's quarters. Tali seemed nervous. "Anderson, he's your captain? You've served under him for a long time? What does he want with me."

"One question at a time," Shepard said, "I've served with Anderson in the past. He's a good man, Tali. The best man. I'm sure this is nothing serious."

"Oh. Good. Because he's sort of my captain now, too, I think. I don't know exactly how this works."

"We can figure it out," Shepard tried to smile. "Ready?"

They had reached the cabin. Tali nodded. Shepard tapped the door controls and they hissed open. Shepard paused. Captain Anderson was sitting behind his desk and Pressly was standing in front of him, hands folded tightly behind his back. Shepard detected that Anderson was displeased. He rose slightly and said, "Miss Zorah would you please wait outside, I will be with you shortly, thank you. Commander Shepard, please, come in."

Shepard patted Tali's arm and then stepped inside the captain's quarters. The door closed behind her and Captain Anderson said, "Thank you, Commander. Mister Pressly has some…concerns…that he feels need to brought to your attention."

"Does he?" Shepard raised her eyebrows.

"That's right, Commander," Pressly said, turning to face her. "I have some _serious_ concerns, Shepard! You can't just bring undocumented aliens aboard the ship, this is the most advanced ship in the Alliance Navy and that quarian is a serious liability!"

Shepard scowled. "She has a name, Pressly. She's not the quarian, and if you understood that you could see she's not a _threat. _Tali'Zorah is a valuable asset, she knows more about synthetics than anyone on this ship. She volunteered for this mission, despite the dangers!"

"She's not a member of the _Alliance, _Commander!"

"She's a member of my team!" Shepard snapped, "And if you don't like it you can shove it up—"

"That's enough, Commander!" Anderson said, slapping the desk, "While I'm disappointed in his attitude, Mister Pressly raised a valid concern. Miss Zorah is not a member of the Alliance or an allied military and, as such, cannot be allowed access to Top Secret technology, not yet. But we need Miss Zorah's expertise and she will be staying on board while I contact Alliance Headquarters. While that happens, I expect all of my officers to behave with courtesy and respect towards our guests. Now, Doctor Chakwas has informed me that Miss Zorah cannot use a human sleeper pod, so, she will be bunking in the Senior Officers Quarters. Is that going to be a problem, Mister Pressly?"

Shepard was breathing hard. Pressly's sagging face was pale. "No, sir," Pressly said, "Of course not, sir."

"However, Mister Pressly, please politely inform Miss Zorah of the ramifications of the Official Secrets Act and the regulations aboard ship and in port and ask her to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Is that acceptable?

"Yes, sir! Of course, Captain."

"Then you are dismissed, Lieutenant Commander. Thank you."

Shepard waited until Navigator Pressly had left before she took two steps towards Captain Anderson and slammed her fist down on his desk. "Sir! How could you do that—"

"Sit down, Commander!" Anderson leapt to his feet with a roar. "Sit down!"

Shepard recoiled. Anderson's nostrils were flared and his bull neck was thick with tension and anger. She sat heavily in the curved chair in front of his desk. "Sir, I—"

"I am very disappointed in you, Commander," Anderson growled, stabbing his desk with his wide fingers, "How dare you speak to Lieutenant Commander Pressly in that fashion. You are the Executive Officer aboard this ship and, by God, you will act like one!"

Shepard felt like she had been slapped. "Anderson, he—"

"I don't care what he said!" Anderson interrupted her, "You know Pressly, and you know better!"

"That doesn't excuse what he—"

"Of course not!"

"Sir, then why—"

"But that doesn't make how you behaved any better, it was childish and immature. First you lost your temper with the Executor and almost ruined our chance of—"

"Damn it, Captain, that's not true!"

Anderson's head rocked back and Shepard bit her tongue a second too late. Her words echoed in the small cabin and she felt more pressing at her throat. She could hear the soft roar of blood rushing in her ears.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Jane," Anderson said after a pregnant pause, "Out of respect for what you've been through in the past couple of days."

Shepard's jaw twisted back and forth as she struggled not to speak.

"You've been on edge since Eden Prime," Anderson spread his hands, "I'm just as upset that we lost Lee and Jenkins, Jane, but you can't let if affect your performance like this. Perhaps Doctor Chakwas should take another look at you."

"No, sir!" Shepard clamped her mouth shut, "Permission to speak, sir?"

Anderson paused. "Of course. Granted."

"I'm under control, sir," Shepard lied. "I'm fine. I'm doing my job."

"Then act like it, Commander!" Anderson barked, "You have responsibilities to your men, to the Alliance! I know you're angry but you can't let it get the better of you. I believe in you, Commander, and I've watched out for you. From when I first saw you in training right up until the Board of Inquiry, I saw a soldier who had been through hell and was still standing tall. I knew that you could be one of the best, and I was right. You set new records in Office Candidate School and in the field. Now, you're a candidate for the Spectres! I looked at you and I saw a soldier with potential, Commander, and I was right. I don't want to see you like…this. Undisciplined. Worn out."

Jane stared at Captain Anderson. She disagreed, with every mote of her being, she felt the sheer wrongness of her mentor's appreciative gaze. Anderson thought she had potential, but what he didn't realize was that she didn't have potential for greatness, she had potential for violence. He looked at her and he saw something that Shepard knew wasn't there. She struggled every day to say the right words to her men and colleagues, to see what Captain Anderson wanted her to see. But she didn't. At her best, she saw vulnerabilities that she needed to protect. At worst, she saw valuable tools that she didn't want to break.

It wasn't that she didn't feel anything. Shepard felt a lot of things. Fear. Hunger. Rage. But she was too smart to think that her feelings meant anything in this universe. It was simple math—that they were all going to die, sooner rather than later in their sordid profession. Shepard didn't understand why anyone else couldn't do the easy equation. Soldiers who walked through life thinking they were protected by providence, they were idiots. Shepard realized that Anderson was waited for her to respond, and she forced herself to speak. "I got lucky sir. You know how I feel. We're just soldiers, and everyone's luck runs out eventually."

Anderson smoothed his hands along his desk as he shook his head. "I know you, Jane, it wasn't just luck. Look at what you did on Elysium. You have to look in the mirror and see what I see, Jane. You're a hero."

"Elysium was politics, sir," Jane ground her teeth, "Politics that cost me a lot, in this line of work."

"Horseshit, Jane," Anderson swung his head from side to side, "You did a damn fine job. No one else could have done what you did on Elysium. Now, I need you to do it again. I know it's not fair, but you're here for a reason and it's time to rise to the task at hand. I know you can do it."

Jane could always rely on Anderson, she would be lost without him. But this time, it was too much, he wanted too much. Anderson didn't understand, he wanted her to be a hero, a leader, like he was. But Shepard was just a soldier. Despite her effort to stay in control she needed to scream; it felt like her throat had constricted around a jagged shard of glass. Dead marines. Beacons. Reapers. Green fire started to irradiate the edges of her vision. She had a mission. She just needed to keep going. Keep moving. Jane took a deep breath and raised her head. "Quite a task, Anderson. The total destruction of galactic civilization is a lot to worry about."

"A lot of good people have your back, Commander," Anderson said. "We will stop Saren and find out what he's planning. I know there's still a whole lot of road left, and I need you by my side."

Jane nodded, her whole body shaking with an unsteady breath. She felt even more drained and tired, now. "Yes, sir. Will do, sir."

"Don't thank me yet, Jane. I'm ordering you to stand down and take a break."

"Sir, Urdnot Wrex is still out there! Let me finish him."

Anderson raised his hand. "Of course, that's the other reason why I called you in here. According to Citadel Security Urdnot Wrex has fled the station now that we've retrieved the memory core. C-Sec picked up his crew and have them in holding."

"It could be a false flag, sir."

"I don't think so, Commander, Urdnot Wrex is a professional and he knows the Citadel is too hot," Captain Anderson said, "You were right to lock down the ship while we sit on our hands waiting for the Council, but the danger has passed. Don't let Executor Pallin get to you, Shepard. That was quick thinking worthy of a Spectre. We're safe for now."

With a sinking heart, Jane shook her head. "We're not safe, sir. This is just the beginning."

Her mentor sighed. "I understand that, Commander, but I'm worried about you. We've been going non-stop since Eden Prime. I'm tempted to order you to report to the doctor, don't look at me like that, instead, I'm ordering you to take a break. Get some sleep, Shepard. Take some shore leave, get your head screwed on straight, and then I expect you back and ready for action."

"Sir, please!"

"Lieutenant Alenko is perfectly capable of watching over your men for a few hours. Let him do his job, Shepard." Anderson lowered his voice, "This is your only option, Jane. Please, take the time you need—the time I need you to take."

Shepard didn't say anything. She could hear distant whispers stroking dry, rasping fingers along the back of her neck.

"Why don't you take Miss Zorah with you, she needs a break." Captain Anderson suggested with a small smile, "You know, she reminds me of you."

Shepard shook herself. "Hardly, sir. Tali is enthusiastic, smart, and happy. Does that sound like me?"

Anderson shook his head, "When I first met you, Shepard, trust me, you were just like her. When you joined up you were a kid that everyone expected to be nothing but a criminal. None of your instructors thought you could hack it, hell, some of them tried their damnedest to get you kicked out, but you didn't let them get to you. You never deserved that, and neither does Miss Zorah. She's more than just an asset, she's your responsibility, now."

"I know that, sir. You taught me well." Shepard was breathing hard through her nose, sending stabbing pains through her raw sinuses. "But you're wrong about one thing, sir. Tali's braver than I ever was. She volunteered for this. I'm just a conscript with a mission and a rifle."

"You're wrong, Janey, even if you won't believe me," Anderson smiled sadly, "Now get out of there and take a few days to relax. You need it."

Shepard rose and saluted. Captain Anderson clambered to his feet and returned her salute. Then he held out his hand. Jane clasped Anderson's large palm with her own. He squeezed and she gave him a short smile, a fluttering smile full of relief and frustration in equal measure. The smile died almost as soon as it appeared.

Shepard exited the captain's cabin. She felt like she was in boot camp and she'd just been wrung out by her Drill Instructor. _I'm sorry, Captain Anderson, I'm not the soldier you think I am._ Shepard longed for the good old days when she was just a grunt with a rifle. Shepard smothered a laugh at her own ridiculousness.

The elevator rose towards the habitation deck; Shepard needed to let Tali'Zorah know what had happened and make sure that Pressly was behaving. Shepard took a deep breath and suppressed her anger and frustration. It wouldn't be fair to take it out on Tali. The elevator arrived and Shepard found Tali sitting at the mess table staring at a pile of data-pads. The quarian looked up at her approach and her speaker flashed, "Shepard!" Tali shot to her feet and knocked over a data-pad, "Whoops!"

Shepard caught the data-pad, sat down, and put it down on the stack. "How was your meeting with Pressly?"

"It was fine. I understand, really," Tali sat down again and played with the data-pad in her long fingers, "The Migrant Fleet keeps a lot of secrets, it makes sense that you would do the same. So I told your navigator I would sign the non-disclosure agreement."

"Good for you. I wish I had your common sense."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I wanted to punch him in the face" Tali said, her eyes flashing with amusement, "But I want to be a part of this crew more, Shepard. I really do."

Shepard laughed and then cut herself off, shaking her head, and giving herself a stabbing pain for her efforts. "I'm impressed, Tali, I am. But I want you to know that, I'm going to be on shore leave. I won't be here, but Captain Anderson will look after you."

"Oh," the light on Tali's helmet dimmed, "That's okay. I thought…you'd be here."

"Orders," Shepard said. She hesitated, fighting with herself. Anderson was right, Tali was her responsibility, and she needed to take care of her. "I know you've been through a lot, and you weren't trained for this. You might be safe now, but that means you're going to have a lot of time to think, and, if you want to talk, you can, well, come with me."

"Thank you, Shepard, that would be amazing! " Tali looked down, "And, I know I've been through a lot, Shepard. But I feel, well, good, that I finally got rid of that memory disk. I know I've been through a lot, but..." Tali's silver eyes became crescent moons in a cloudy sky, "I feel safe, with you, Shepard."

Shepard stared at the young woman. Tali'Zorah was offering something precious and fragile—friendship. And Shepard, whatever she choose to say next, was going to hurt her. Now, or later.

The Commander nodded, keeping her voice calm and emotionless. "We need you're expertise, Tali. We'll keep you safe."

An awkward silence fell. Shepard glanced at her omni-tool and then jerked to her feet. "Well. Come on then."

"Where?"

"I need to make my rounds of the ship and you, you're getting a tour."

Tali's communicator chirped excitedly and her glowing eyes opened wide.

Shepard escorted Tali around the habitation deck and then led her to the command deck and showed her the CIC, or Combat Information Control. As Shepard checked in with the ship's officers and received their reports, Tali touched everything, trailing the pads of her fingers along the polished surfaces of the ship. She peered into the map and almost fell over the railing as she stretched out towards the illuminated star clusters. Shepard almost laughed but the sound hitched in her throat as the voice awakened within her. She could feel a sensation of recognition that she had never felt before, staring at the map of the galaxy. An alien feeling of terror at the sight of the voids between the stars. _Warn…her._

Her head was killing her.

Shepard shook herself. "Let's go. I'll introduce you to our pilot."

Shepard turned her back on the galaxy map and marched towards the bridge. When they arrived at the cockpit, Tali'Zorah gasped at the sight of the array of orange and yellow haptic toggles and holographic displays, computers, and bridge portholes. Shepard gestured towards the pilot, "Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, this is Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau."

"Call me Joker," Jeff spun around in his flight chair and grinned, "I heard about your adventures, Tali'Zorah. Don't touch my controls and we'll get along fine!"

"I can't promise that," Tali laughed, "I want to crawl inside every inch of this ship."

"Aw, come on, Commander," Joker thew up his hands, "Don't let the cute alien mess up my ship! We just escaped drydock and I've finally got her just the way I want her."

"Leave the controls alone, Tali," Shepard smiled.

"Please, Commander?" Tali begged, "What about outside of the cockpit?"

"So long as it doesn't affect the flight controls, be my guest," Joker grinned.

"Joker, you can't authorize that." Shepard said, "Tali, you're going to have to speak with Chief Engineer Adams before you touch _anything_, do I make myself clear?"

Tali let out an crackling sigh, "Yes, I understand."

Shepard touched her shoulder, "Don't worry. I'm sure Adams will find something for you to do."

"Better you than me, Tali," Joker sighed and put his hands behind his head and leaning back in his cushioned chair "So, Commander, when are we getting out of here? This baby needs to fly!"

Tali's speaker sparkled as she laughed.

"Soon, Joker. Soon. It would be sooner if you stopped sending my winky faces as your status report. Give me some real numbers, Lieutenant."

"Alright, Commander," Joker smiled at Tali, "You can visit any time. You, at least, can't order me around like this dictator."

Shepard raised an eyebrow and Joker, snickering, swiveled to face the cockpit. "See ya, Commander!"

They had finished the tour of the habitation deck and heading down to the lower decks of the ship. As they rode the elevator to the engineering deck Shepard felt something wet touch her lip. Shepard surreptitiously scrubbed at her nose and wiped the blood on the back of her hand, thankful that Tali was examining the elevator controls. Tali looked up and Jane dropped her hand to her side in a flash. Tali's speaker beamed as she rocked back and forth excitedly. "I can't wait to see your engine room, Shepard! This ship is amazing!"

"Engineer Adams is going to love you, Tali."

She was right. Shepard was barely able to pry Tali'Zorah away from Engineering. Engineer Adams had been overwhelmed by the excited chatter, but, at the same time, he had been impressed by her insightful queries. Shepard was hopeful that they would get along. Still, she was obligated to steer Tali'Zorah away from the expensive machinery that the young girl was itching to take apart and head towards the medical bay. Doctor Chakwas wanted to meet her newest patient and make sure that her suit was intact.

"I don't need to see a doctor, really," Tali'Zorah muttered.

"Yes, you do," Shepard said as they entered the medical bay, "Hey Chakwas, I have a very special patient for you."

Dr. Chakwas turned her chair and examined them with intelligent green eyes. "Greetings, Commander," she rose and extended her hand to Tali, "And we haven't been introduced. I'm Doctor Chakwas."

"Nice to meet you," Tali'Zorah took her hand after a moment, "I'm Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Zorah," Chakwas smiled, "I look forward to getting to know your medical peculiarities."

"Oh," Tali'Zorah hesitated, "I'm glad..?"

Shepard laughed. "Don't worry, Tali, the doc looks after everyone aboard ship. You're just her latest patient."

"Indeed you are," Chakwas said, "Though I was glad to hear you didn't suffer any casualties on the Citadel, Commander. Though I did just have a platoon of Marines come and pilfer my stock of medi-gel in preparation for their next…exciting bout of action."

There was a brief catch in Chakwas' voice and Jane realized that the doctor was thinking about Jenkins, always been eager for the action. One more dead man, among thirty thousand. All a waste, a disgrace, and just enough to start a war. Shepard pushed the memories aside and gestured towards Tali'Zorah. "Well, Doctor Chakwas, you're going to need a larger stock. Here's another patient who practically drinks medi-gel."

"That's not my fault, Shepard, that's not fair!" Tali wailed

Shepard laughed, and Dr. Chakwas eyes sparkled as she tapped her chin. "Yes, of course. Is there any specific type you need, Miss Zorah?"

"Sanitized dexro-amino products are fine, Doctor," Tali said with a sigh. "But, really, I can take care of myself."

"Not aboard my ship, my dear!" Chakwas said firmly, "You're one of my crew, and it's my job to take care of you. Now, Commander Shepard, if you would leave us I need to talk to my patient."

Tali'Zorah turned quickly. "Shepard?"

"Meet me at the airlock when you're done, you're in safe hands with Doctor Chakwas, she's one of the good ones"

"Ah, taking a well deserved rest, Commander?" Chakwas said shrewdly, "Well, I expect to see you when you return for more of your excellent compliments, and we should have a discussion. Have a pleasant shore leave."

Wondering if the Captain had told Dr. Chakwas about his concerns, Jane faked a smile. "Yes, ma'am, I'll try, but it's always an uphill battle to actually enjoy myself."

"Shepard? Thank you," Tali'Zorah said, rocking backwards and forward slightly and wringing her hands, "For the tour. For everything. I'm so glad to be here."

Her vision wavered slightly and Shepard blinked. Shepard hoped that Dr. Chakwas couldn't detect the wave of nausea and pain that was fighting to reveal itself. "I'll see you soon, Tali. And I'll see you when I get back, Doc."

The door sealed behind her and Commander Shepard wavered with a fresh surge of nausea. She needed a drink badly, this was getting ridiculous. She was exhausted from her nightmares, the Council continued to delay, Urdnot Wrex had escaped, Vakarian and Pressly were competing for the title of galactic bigot, and Captain Anderson had chewed her out for no good reason. Well, he might have good reasons. But it still felt like crap. She put a hand on the side of the door and took a steadying breath.

Shepard told herself she wasn't losing it. That her shaking hands meant nothing, the combat drugs would deal with that. It was the Beacon, it had done something to her head, but she couldn't tell anyone. Not yet. She just needed an expert on Prothean technology. If only the voice would stop scratching at the back of her skull. Jane could hear the roaring sound of rumbling trumpets in her ears and desperate voices echoed on the wind. Alien words that she felt like she should be able to understand. But all she knew was that a war was coming.

Her head was pounding worse than any hangover, worse than the ringing sensation after a grenade and fresh spots of greenish light were drifting across her vision now. The seductive allure of her combat chemicals hovered just at the edge of conscious thought. When she was running on synthetic adrenaline it was easy to ignore the niggling little voice… No, she told herself. Shepard would listen—she was going insane, she told herself—no, she needed to listen…

She just needed a drink first.

[Updated 29-May-2016]


	13. Spectres

**Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**

**2183.07.16**

_Crimson tides of flesh and blood smashed against her body and Jane Shepard was lifted up towards the crest of a terrible wave. Swarms of buzzing insects rose from the froth. Her uniform was soaked through with blood, and the weight was dragging her under. Spluttering and coughing, Jane kicked, desperate, but she couldn't do anything, she was drowning. Suddenly, the wave crashed into the shore and Shepard rose from the filth, hacking and coughing as she sucked gasps of acrid air. Buzzing insects slapped at her face and neck, crawling across her lips, and Shepard spat viciously. Opening, her stinging eyes, Shepard recoiled with an oath. She was standing on a field of thirty thousand corpses. Eden Prime was burning._

_"Hey, Commander!"_

_"Jenkins!" Shepard gasped._

_The young marine smiled, a dreadful smile. His lips peeled back from blackened gums and his teeth fell out one by one, trailing thin ropes of black blood. Indigo Lee was sitting on a pile of corpses, her unlit cigar clamped in one corner of her mouth, her fringe of purple hair fluttering in a wind that smelled like shit and rotten eggs. "Janey," Lee smiled. "I won't always be there to back you up. You're on your own, Janey. On your own."_

_Nihlus Kryik's skull was smashed open. Flies were crawling across the exposed bone and flesh in a shimmering black mass. "You're special, Shepard. Special."'_

_Dead colonists wearing the faces of her fallen comrades crowded around them, a shifting mass of painful memories. Flashes of scarlet lightning tore across the battlefield and Shepard called out a warning, but she was too late. The broken bodies were ripped into pieces, Indigo Lee and Nihlus Kryis were torn apart. Shepard felt something wet slap across her neck. Jenkins was still smiling, oblivious to the smoking hole in his chest. "Eden Prime is beautiful. I sorta miss this place, Commander."_

_Jenkins eyes popped out and were replaced with glowing blue fires. His skin melted and a metallic skeleton emerged, emitting a shrill yowl. Lee and Kryik rose, twitching, their limbs shrivelling and hardening into savage claws, their eyes shining. Thousands of bodies pressed around her, glowing with blue fire. Black claws fell out of the sky, wreathed in lightning, and smashed into the burning earth._

THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING, JANE SHEPARD.

_No! She had to stop this. Green fire blossomed from the tips of her fingers and her eyes and ribbons of translucent emerald light danced across the field of corpses. Jane was lifted into the air and dead hands clawed at her legs and feet, ripping her clothes and tearing gashes along her calves. __It was like she was being pulled towards the Beacon, falling—_

_She was falling into blissful darkness. Out of the darkness, like sparks from a hidden fire, emerged a tongue of green fire. She remembered a conversation she had never had, an image forcing itself into her mind's eye like a memory recovered from a buried trauma. The flame spoke, and she felt like she could make out the occasional alien word, clicks and wails and trills that she couldn't understand._

WARN THEM, SHEPARD. WARN THEM, SHEPARD!

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Jane Shepard groaned. What was happening? Green lights were dancing behind her eyelids. The hairs on her arms and neck were standing on end and her head crackled withs static electricity.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

A slow wave of pain was crashing around the inside of her skull. Her fingers twitched. Years of military training had conditioned her to respond to the intercom no matter what her condition, and she groped towards the annoying sound. Shepard's eyelids cracked open and she stared blearily at the chiming omni-tool. The device was rattling on her wrist, like it was trying to peel away from her body. Her undershirt was rippling, floated above her skin like she was in zero-gravity. Her vision was tinted with green light.

There was a clang of metal and Shepard rolled onto her side, tense and alert, her head spinning as if she had just injected a shot of combat chemicals. The tray of medical instruments next to her bed, secured under a plastic case, was swaying on its mechanical arm. Her shirt had settled into place and her omni-tool continued to ping, now motionless. The stack of data-pads on Chakwas' desk was scattered across the floor. She sucked in several rapid breaths, trying to clear her vision of green spots.

Something strange was going on. Shepard struggled to think, but her brain felt sluggish, despite the energy flooding her bloodstream. Filing the thought for much later reflection and burying her concerns, she tapped the controls on her omni-tool and accepted the transmission. "Captain?"

"Rise and shine, Commander! I heard you had some trouble last night but Chakwas says you're ready to go, much to her displeasure," Captain Anderson said.

Shepard blinked and tried to remember. It felt like dust clung to her throat and mouth. "Aye-aye, sir," she croaked, "I'm five-by-five."

Anderson chuckled. "Then listen up, Commander, we've received word from the Council and they want us on the Presidium at oh-nine-hundred local."

"Finally!" Shepard coughed; she squinted at the display and swallowed a curse. "They're playing games with us, sir, we only have forty-five minutes!"

"I know, so get moving, Commander. Anderson out."

Shepard swung into a sitting position with a groan. She was in the medical bay, an occurrence that was becoming all too common. Shepard looked around and saw a second medical bed with an opaque screen shuttered around the reclining form. From the quiet hum of the air filters, and what had happened last night, Shepard knew it was Tali'Zorah. The quarian was going to be fine, of course. It was just a few punches. Lifting her gaze from the obscured form of the sleeping girl, Shepard sighed and knuckled her forehead with a wince of pain. Gingerly, she explored her injuries: she had a black eye, blood caked her nostrils, and there was a cut on her her lower lip. The splash of scarring on her left arm and side caught the light from the overheads. Raised white ridges were carved in her left arm and stomach while webs of pale lines danced across the tendons on her wrists. Her skin seemed drained of color, her cheeks gaunt, and the pits of her eyes were shadowed. Shepard chuckled wearily. It had been quite a night.

Captain Anderson hard ordered her to take some shore leave while the Council deliberated on their evidence implicating Saren in the attack on Eden Prime. Shepard had taken Tali'Zorah to a grungy bar the served the Alliance Docks, but when Terra Firma Party had crashed the party mayhem had ensued. The Terra Firma Party despised the growing alien influence on humanity and rejected the authority of the Citadel Council. Terra Firma was always recruiting new members and organizing protests on the Citadel, and, unfortunately, the Alliance Navy and Marine Corps were fertile recruiting ground for party membership. Servicemen still remembered the humiliation of Shanxi in 2157 and after the geth attack on Eden Prime, Terra Firma was spouting even more bile about the alien menace. Last night, a dozen members had entered the bar, spreading the good word, and when they had seen Shepard and Tali'Zorah at the back of the bar—an alien, and a quarian who was, of course, _personally_ responsible for the creation of the geth—things had escalated quickly. Tables and chairs had been thrown, drinks spilled, bottles had been smashed—the usual.

The door at the rear of the Medical Bay slid open with a hiss and Doctor Chakwas emerged. Raising one silver brow she approached Shepard's medical bed and put her hands on her hips.

"Commander, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Shepard jerked her head towards Tali'Zorah. "I'm fine. How is she?"

Dr. Chakwas frowned at the scattered pads on the deck beside her desk. She swept them into her arms and stacked them neatly in the appropriate slots. "Miss Zorah is in excellent condition. I was concerned for her past injuries, but there was nothing to worry about. You, on the other hand…I warned you that we don't truly know what the Beacon did to you. You're experiencing unusual brain activity and your bioelectric field is emitting stronger than normal readings."

"I'm fine." Shepard shook her head, causing a spike of pain her neck and skull.

"The Beacon did something to you, Commander," Dr. Chakwas said softly, "And I'm not qualified to understand what. I've spoken to the Captain. We need an expert, Shepard."

"Then I'll find one," Shepard said in a quiet hiss, "But we can't stop now, Karin. We need to convince the Council to suspend Saren. We need to hunt him down. That's my first priority."

"Captain Anderson ordered you to get some rest and relaxation, Commander, that was your priority," Chakwas said dryly, "You're far too valuable to the Alliance to loose an eye in a barroom brawl. I don't want to see you in here for anything less than a planetary invasion, Commander, do you hear me?"

Shepard snorted. "Thanks, Karin. I can't help it when Terra Firma throws the first punch. Besides, a good fight is what I needed."

Shepard was lying—or, at least, she wasn't telling the whole truth. The Commander hadn't started the brawl, but she had been drunk, angry, and spoiling for a fight. It wasn't professional, it wasn't smart, and she regretted dragging Tali'Zorah into her mess. But she had warned the captain that Tali'Zorah didn't need her example, and Shepard had been right. The Commander scowled. She knew she was still rationalizing her poor behavior.

Dr. Chakwas shook her head, "In all honesty, I'm surprised you suffered the blows you did."

"I was drunk as hell and my head was killing me." Shepard muttered. "It's dangerous, Karin, I can't lose focus in the field like that. I'll find an expert. Trust me."

Chakwas pursed her lips. "I trust your judgement, Commander. But don't wait much longer."

Shepard clenched her jaw and launched herself from the medical bed to the cold deck. "Thanks, Karin. The Council is ready to see us. Could you wake Tali'Zorah for me? She deserves to hear what they did with her information."

"Of course, Commander." Karin smiled, "I don't presume to know what the Council decided, but, good work, Jane. You did the Captain proud."

Shepard nodded, exited the Medical Bay, and headed to her quarters. In forty-five seconds, Shepard's blue-and-gold uniform jacket was flapping open against her undershirt as she exited her quarters, freshly dressed, and barged into the head. Draining the last dregs of a gallon of nutri-ade and tossing the empty jug in the recycler, she held back her hair with one hand, and splashed cold water on her face with the other. A flick of her head draped slimy wet hair across her neck and she shivered. Jane slapped her hands on the sink and bent her head to gulp water from the tap, but it was very difficult to suppress a thought. The more attention she focused on the effort to suppress the niggling voice, the more vivid it became to her conscious mind. She tried to drown it out, sucking in deep breaths. She could do this.

* * *

Tal'Zorah looked up as Commander Shepard returned to the Medical Bay; she wore a blue uniform with golden piping and her red-black hair glittered with droplets of water, one eye narrowed and swollen with bruises. Her narrow eyes flickered towards her and Tali'Zorah bit her lip, shocked at her injuries. She raised her hand, "Commander! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Trust me." Shepard approached her, running a hand through her wet hair. "Ready to leave?"

Tali'Zorah nodded, "Doctor Chakwas told me that the Council's ready for us? I have to admit, I'm so nervous."

Shepard shrugged. "Unfortunately, I don't know what they're going to do—despite all of the evidence."

Her voice was dripping with disdain, but Tali wasn't really listening. Shepard's face was drawn, her wide cheekbones battered with freckles and scars. As her hair slid along her ears, Tali had a sudden urge to glide her fingers along the gentle whorl. Tali could imagine her own ears—an elliptical tapetum inside a partition of her padded hood. Shepard's ear was different, complex, soft— Tali blushed. _Pay attention, Tali'Zorah!_

Tali'Zorah swung her legs out from the bed and stretched her long arms above her head, silk strips stretching across her chest and buckles straining against the teal padding of her suit. She jumped onto the deck. "I'm ready to go, Commander. Thank you for bringing me."

"You're good to go?" Shepard asked carefully.

"It was just a scratch, really! Ancestors, I can't believe it! I got into a bar fight!" Tali said, flustered, she lowered her gaze and busied herself checking her seals and buckles. Her suit computer verified all of her seals, but a quarian always checked their own external equipment. That was it. She didn't know what to say to someone like Commander Shepard, and the human seemed nervous, almost anxious. But that couldn't be true. _What is the matter with you, Tali'Zorah! You're acting like a child, no, worse than that, an idiot—come on, I have to say something._ "Honestly, Shepard, it was fun, really. You took the worst of the fight, how are you feeling?"

"I was drunk and stupid so I have a few bumps and bruises," Shepard said reluctantly, "Those bastards deserve what they got, but it was an idiotic decision."

Tali'Zorah took two steps forward, her glowing eyes focused on Shepard. "You look terrible," she gasped and raised her hands, "I mean, you look hurt! You look great, in fact, I…Oh, Ancestors."

Shepard snorted. "I get it."

Tali'Zorah shook her head, "Shepard, honestly, thank you for standing up for me. Whatever the Council decides, we can do this. I'm ready for anything!"

Jane took a deep breath and revealed a thin smile, "Thank you, Tali."

Tali'Zorah didn't know if what she said helped the Commander, the woman that had saved her life, the woman that had believed her impossible story. But she had to try, this was far too important. The fate the galaxy was at stake. She had to try. The light at the front of her visor flickered as Tali smiled, "Your welcome, Commander."

* * *

The steps leading towards the Council were lit by dim radiance of the nebula filtered through the crystal windows of the Presidium. Captain Anderson waited at the bottom of the last flight of stairs as Shepard and Tali'Zorah arrived. Shepard's heart was pounding and she was taut with anticipation as she saluted. Her mind felt clear and focused for the first time in days. Anderson returned her salute, "Commander, Ambassador Udina is already presenting the new evidence to the Council. You did it, Shepard, the Executor confirmed our findings."

Shepard smiled fiercely, "The old bastard finally did his job."

Anderson's lip twitched. He ran his eyes across her Service Dress Uniform and then nodded. "I won't ask," Anderson murmured, "So long as there's no blood on your uniform?"

"No, sir," Shepard smiled.

"Then come on, we're late." Anderson started up the stairs towards the vaulted chamber.

At the pinnacle of the tower the Council was just visible across the sunken terraced garden, the violet canopy of leaves frozen and still. The public galleries were empty and silent. Ambassador Udina stood on the elevated rostrum facing the Council Dais, where the Councillors' shadowed faces were impassive as they listened to the disembodied words of Saren Arterius. Shepard could feel a rush of alien emotions, but she was no longer afraid, just irritated. She was ready.

Udina had already presented their case, detailing the witness testimony, limited physical evidence from Eden Prime, and Saren's statements and hatred for humanity. Shepard joined Captain Anderson, standing two steps behind the ambassador. Tali'Zorah stood behind her, twining her hands together nervously. Shepard spared her a glance and then focused her attention on the Council. The three representatives of the Council Races were grim. They waited as the recording faded. Shepard scowled as Benezia announced, in a voice like blackened ice, "And one step closer to finding the Reapers."

As the voices died away, Ambassador Udina raised his fist, "You wanted proof? There it is!"

There was a ringing silence. Slowly, the three councilors exchanged reluctant glances.

"Ambassador, you have made your point," Councillor Sparatus' mandibles closed tightly. "The evidence is...irrefutable."

They had done it. Shepard smiled for a single instant and she could feel the attention of the Council fall on her. She clasped her hands behind her back and settled into parade rest. Councillor Sparatus' mandibles flickered. "Saren Arterius will be stripped of his Spectre status and all efforts will be made to bring in to answer for his crimes. He longer has the rights or resources of the Citadel Council."

Councillor Tevos raised her hand, "The Council has identified the second subject on the recording, Matriarch Benezia. Be warned, Ambassador. Saren has found a powerful ally," Tevos said sadly, "The Matriarch will be removed from the Assembly of Advisors, and she is now wanted for questioning. Together, Saren Arterius and Benezia T'Soni have violated their oaths of allegiance to the Citadel Council, murdered Nihlus Kryik, and broken Citadel Law. For their crimes against the Systems Alliance, the Council extends a formal apology to the people of Eden Prime."

"I will transmit your apology to Prime Minister Shastri, Councillor," Udina growled, "But you know that now is not the time for words!"

Sparatus waved his talons through the air. "The Council has already stripped Saren of his position, Ambassador."

"That is not good enough!" Udina growled, "You know that he is hiding somewhere in the Traverse! Send your fleet in!"

A shiver of anticipation ran down Shepard's spine as Udina leaned forward over the railing, barking like an angry dog and raising one fist. She could hear the fires of war in his impassioned rasp.

"No. A fleet cannot track down one man," Councillor Valern shook his head, "The Committee has already made its decision."

"The Citadel Fleet could secure the entire region, prevent the geth from attacking any more human colonies!"

"Or it could start a war with the Terminus Systems, Ambassador," Sparatus sneered, "We won't be dragged into a galactic confrontation over a few human colonies."

Behind her back, Shepard's right hand clawed at her left wrist. _N__o. The Council was going to do nothing. You must do something._ There was too much at stake. Jane's eyes flicked towards Captain Anderson. She had to speak. Shepard stepped forward and raised her chin, calling out, "This isn't about a few human colonies, Councillors, this is our last chance! You heard the recording, Saren is planning on bringing back the Reapers. You saw the data! The Reapers wiped out the Protheans. The threat is real."

The Reapers. The threat was unimaginable. Udina growled an oath, but Shepard ignored him. Her heart was pounding and her vision flickered for a moment. She put a hand on the railing. Captain Anderson put a hand on her elbow and Shepard felt a flash of irritation. Anderson raised his voice, "Councillors, we don't know what the Reapers are. But the recording indicates that the Conduit is key to bringing them back and Saren is searching for it, that's why he attacked Eden Prime!"

"Enough! Listen to what you're saying!" Sparatus sighed, "Saren is planning on bringing back the machines that wiped out all life in the galaxy? Impossible. Where did the Reapers go? How come we found no trace of their existence?"

Valern shook his head, "The Reapers are obviously just a myth, Commander, a convenient lie to cover Saren's true purpose. A legend that he is using to bend the geth to his will."

"Fifty thousand years ago the Reapers wiped out all galactic civilization," Shepard slammed her fist on the railing, "If Saren finds the Conduit, it will happen again. I tried to warn you about Saren and you didn't listen. Don't make the same mistake again."

Tevos raised her hand, "This is different. We all agree he is searching for the Conduit, but we don't know why. There is no evidence that the Reapers are a real and present danger to Citadel Space. The matter is closed."

Shepard closed her eyes. Blood was roaring in her ears and her head felt heavy and misshapen like a lump of melted ore, her black eye throbbing. Her copper hair glittering in the dim light as it slid across her scarred forehead. She had warned them, but she had failed. I have to stop them on my own. The Commander opened her eyes just as Ambassador Udina slapped an open palm on the railing, "I'm sick and tired of this council. Humanity demands your assistance! Whatever Saren believes, he is attacking human colonies! He is your man, send in your fleet!"

"Ambassador," Tevos interjected, "There is a another solution. There is a way to stop Saren without fleets, or armies."

Sparatus grimaced, "No, it's too soon. Humanity is not ready."

Shepard sneered, "It was Saren Arterius who betrayed the Council, but Nihlus Kryik choose humanity. My species doesn't matter, Councillor. None of this matters!"

Tevos raised her open palms, glancing at her two colleagues. Despite herself, Shepard's breath caught in her throat. With a growl, Sparatus inclined his head. Sparatus hesitated and then slammed a talon down on his console. Tevos turned towards Valern. His enormous black eyes glittered beneath his hood as he tilted his head and entered a command into his terminal. Tevos smiled and raised her chin. "Commander Shepard, step forward."

Shepard looked towards Captain Anderson, her heart hammering against her chest, naked without her armor. Anderson who nodded. Shepard stepped forward.

"It is the decision of the Council that you be granted all the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Division of the Citadel," Tevos announced.

"Spectres are not trained, but chosen," Valern continued, "Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file."

"Spectres are an idea, a symbol. The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance." Tevos said, "They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will."

"Spectres bear a great burden," Sparatus nodded, "They are protectors of galactic peace, both our first and last line of defence. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold."

"You are the first human Spectre, Commander. This is a great accomplishment for your and your entire species." Tevos smiled.

Valern folded his hands in front of his gilded robes. "Saren is now a fugitive from justice and you are authorized to use any means necessary to bring him to justice."

Shepard's heart was still pounding. She trembled on the edge of satisfaction and anger. I_ will do what must be done, but I'm just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Somebody has to be. Nothing more._ Shepard raised her eyes. "I will find Saren Arterius. I will bring him down. But this is just the beginning. The Reapers are real—and a war is coming."

* * *

"Congratulations, Commander. This has been a long time coming." Captain Anderson extended his hand and and Shepard accepted his firm grip. He squeezed, once, but Shepard was still full of frustrated disappointment. It was a hollow victory.

"We've got a look of work to do, Shepard," Ambassador Udina said, "You almost destroyed our chances with the Council!"

"The Reapers are real," Shepard growled, "This is real, Ambassador, whether you want to admit it or not."

"Enough," Udina grunted, shaking his head, "Captain Anderson, come with me, we have to inform the Prime Minister of our success! Commander Shepard, keep your head down and stay out of the cameras! I don't want you mucking it up, you hear me?"

"My pleasure, Ambassador," Shepard replied with a rigid smile.

"You need to complete your reassignment, Commander. Head to the Special Tactics Office," Captain Anderson said with a reassuring smile. "I'll see you aboard the Normandy when you're done."

"Yes, sir," Shepard said.

"Captain Anderson, come!"

The two men retreated and Commander Shepard let out a snarl, snapping her fist against her thigh. "Son of a bitch."

_Warn them…I did warn them, and they didn't listen._ She had failed to convince the Council that the threat of the Reapers was real and Saren Arterius was merely the vanguard of a far greater threat. Shepard wondered if the resources and authority of Council Special Tactics was worth the price of ignorance and betrayal. Udina may have been satisfied that the Council had renounced one of their foremost agents and promised a public apology for the assault on Eden Prime, but Shepard knew that the war was just beginning.

"He didn't even thank you," Tali'Zorah said, exasperated, "Unbelievable."

Jane focused on Tali'Zorah, her silver eyes forming glowing orbs. The tip of her nose gleamed with reflected light. Under the force of Shepard's gaze, Tali'Zorah brushed her two long fingers along the patterned veil that hid her helmet. Shepard sighed and tried to give her a reassuring smile. "Until I find anything, I haven't done anything yet. First we need to find Saren and his synthetics."

Tali'Zorah hesitated for a moment and then stepped forward, "Three hundred years ago, the geth drove my people into exile," Tali'Zorah said softly, "We asked the Council to wipe the synthetics out, but they ignored our please. Maybe if they'd listened, we wouldn't be here now. Now, it's up to us."

"Damn it, it's not enough," Shepard replied, "We can't stop every attack, not without the Council."

"Not if we have anything to say about it!" Tali replied, "We can do it, Shepard. I'll tell you everything my people know about the geth."

It has to be enough, Shepard told herself. She nodded. "Let's move."

They descended the steps towards the elevator. Shepard raised one eyebrow. Garrus Vakarian was standing at attention at the base the of the Presidium. His mandibles clicked and he tightened one taloned hand as Shepard pulled to a halt at the bottom of the steps with a frown. "Vakarian," she murmured, "You're out of uniform."

She glanced at Tali'Zorah, who sighed with a crackle and shrugged one shoulder. Garrus gave a nervous click and coughed, "Commander Shepard. Yeah...I'm on vacation."

"You abandoned your post?" Tali'Zorah gasped.

"No," Garrus said, "Look, I've...been suspended. And they really don't want me to come back."

Shepard grunted. "Damn, Vakarian. Took your gun and badge?"

"Something like that," Vakarian's mandibles flashed, "But I'm not here for pity. Congratulations are in order."

"News travels fast," Tali'Zorah tilted her head and put one long-fingered hand on her hip. "I thought the press conference was tomorrow?"

"It's not public knowledge," Vakarian said with a nervous smile, "This was my case and I was waiting for information. Look, I just…I'm sorry." Garrus shifted his weight from foot to foot, holding his hands behind his back and Tali'Zorah put one hand over her speaker, her eyes gleaming. Vakarian coughed, his mandibles flush to his chin and flickering slightly, "Look, I was out of line when I told you…not to trust Tali'Zorah. I was wrong."

"It's not me you should apologize too," Shepard crossed her arms.

"I really am sorry, Tali'Zorah," Garrus said ruefully, "I remembered how much I hated some of my colleagues for doing exactly what I did to you, and realized I was acting like an idiot. I was wrong."

Shepard glanced at her companion, whose hands were cupped around her communicator, "Thank you, Garrus. Really." Tali practically glowed, "No one has ever…Thank you!"

Shepard's eyebrows had risen and one side of her mouth lifted slightly as she glanced at Garrus. "Smooth talker."

"It's not like that, Commander!" Garrus raised his hands, "Really! I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a beautiful quarian, uh, a beautiful woman. Look, what I meant to say…"

"I take it all back," Shepard snorted, "Stop you before you hurt yourself, Garrus,"

Tali'Zorah had to laugh and Shepard felt her lip twitch. "What do you need, Vakarian?"

Garrus came back to attention. "I put in my resignation with C-Sec and I want to join up…This is important, Shepard. I got myself into this. I just want to see it through. I know you're going after Saren and I'm ready. I can help—if it's alright with you, Tali'Zorah."

"Me?" Tali's eyes widened, "Well, of course! We need all the help we can get, right, Shepard?"

Shepard said nothing. Garrus' facial plates fluttered nervously as he tried to smile. TheCommander's face was closed, her narrow eyes motionless. "Alright. Let me talk to Captain Anderson."

"That's all I need to hear!" Garrus grinned, "Thank you, Commander."

Shepard shook her head. "Don't thank me yet, Garrus. This is going to be one hell of a ride."

Tali'Zorah beamed, "Welcome to the team, Garrus."

* * *

**Codex: Council Races/Humanity and the Systems Alliance/Terra Firma**

_Terra Firma is an Alliance political party formed after the First Contact War, founded by Sofia-Maria Simmons in 2158. The current leader of the party is Charles Saracino. Terra Firma opposes humanity's growing integration into the galactic community and the growing alien influence on human society. Party members believe that humanity needs to "stand firm" against alien pressures and reject membership in the Citadel Council. They believe that alien rules and regulations have helped alien corporations while hindering the expansion Systems Alliance._  
_Party policy is based on the principle that Earth comes first. This covers a variety of proposed legislation. Recent proposals include opposition to a law requiring the study of alien languages in secondary education, a proposal to increase tariffs on alien imports, and a popular movement to mark human sacrifices during the First Contact War as a public holiday. While Terra Firma's controversial policy proposals attract media interest, the party has only three members in the Alliance Parliament._

_Terra Firma was founded to fight the potential subversion of human economy and cultures under a wave of alien influence. As the Sytems Alliance continues to push for membership on the Citadel Council, the future of Terra Firma is uncertain. While the party manifesto is not particularly extremist, Terra Firma has become a magnet for jingoists and xenophobes. Terra Firma does nothing to curtail the radical comments of its leading members, under the pretext that the party will not abridge its members' freedom of speech. As a result, Terra Firma has become associated with open racism and militarism. Party rallies are carefully monitored by Alliance Intelligence as there have been reported incidents of violence against non-humans._

[Updated 29-May-2016]


	14. This Is Just The Beginning

**SSV Normandy, Widow System, Serpent Nebula**

**2183.07.16**

Shepard was the first human member of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Division of the Citadel, and, thus far, all she had accomplished was a lot of paperwork. Heaving an irritated sigh, Shepard tucked the stack of encrypted optical readers tucked under her arm and tapped the door controls to Captain Anderson's cabin. The hatch slid open. "You called, sir?"

"Come in, Shepard."

Jane paused before she entered the blue-tinted chamber with a small frown—something was wrong. She knew Anderson too well and his smile was bittersweet. He gestured at the chair in front of his round conference table. "First things first, Garrus Vakarian is settling in aboard ship. You made the right call, Shepard. He's going to be a useful asset."

"Thank you, sir."

"More importantly," Anderson said, "I received a report from the shore patrol. Three men were put in the hospital last night. I wanted you to know they'll be fine."

"Yes, sir." Shepard settled into parade rest.

Anderson frowned. "I heard what happened in the bar, Jane. You're a Spectre, you can do what you think is right. But you know better, Shepard, you can't afford to get into barroom brawls."

"Yes, sir."

Her commanding officer waved his hand, "Enough about that, it's done. You don't answer to me anymore," Anderson stood up and extended his hand. "Congratulations, Spectre Shepard."

"Thank you, Captain." Shepard said as she relaxed and took Anderson's warm hand in her own. "But it doesn't really feel like we achieved anything."

"You're wrong," Anderson smiled, "This is a good first step, Commander. We needed the Citadel's files, and now you have access to top-level intelligence. You talked to the requisitions officer?"

Shepard gave him a twisted smile and dropped the encrypted pads she had been carrying on the table. "You make it sound easy. I spent two hours signing forms and three hours wading through redacted files for nothing. The Council has no idea where Saren is hiding, sir."

"That's not unexpected," Anderson frowned, "Perhaps we're going about this the wrong way. Saren is an expert at covering his tracks. But his ally, Matriarch Benezia, the other voice in the recording? She's a politician."

"Damn! Benezia." Shepard sat down and let her head fall back. She pulled her hands through her thin hair and rubbed at her aching skull, the locks clinging to her fingers and creating a mess of flyaway hairs, and then hauled herself upright. She gestured towards Anderson's computer, "Sir?"

He rotated the computer towards her and Shepard logged in. Stabbing the keys irritably she scrolled through the files. "Matriarch Benezia's current whereabouts are unknown," Shepard said, "But she has property on Thessia and Illium—and she has a daughter. A scientist who specializes in the Protheans, Doctor Liara T'Soni. That can't be a coincidence."

Shepard slid the screen towards him and Anderson nodded thoughtfully, "Says here that she was exploring an archaeological dig on a mining world in the Artemis Tau cluster. We don't know if she's involved, but you should find her, see what she knows."

Shepard frowned. "You make it sound like you're not coming with me."

Anderson's smile faded. He closed the computer, his craggy features carved into an intense grimace. "It's complicated," Anderson sighed. "You've received your new security clearance?"

It wasn't really question. Shepard didn't say anything. The captain hesitated. "Twenty years ago I was part of a mission in the Skylian Verge, and I was working with Saren."

Shepard's face went blank, hiding her shock. She leaned forward as Anderson shook his head with a sour expression, "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before, but I was a candidate for the Spectres. Saren was ordered to observe and report, just like Nihlus was with you. We were working to find and remove a batarian extremist cell. Saren eliminated the target, but he took down a space station to do it. A lot people died, a lot of innocent people." Anderson gave her a bitter smile. "I know how the world works, Jane, and so do you. Sometimes we're forced to make unpleasant decisions, but only if there's no other way. Saren doesn't even look for another option. No conscience. No hesitation. He'd kill a thousand innocent civilians to end a war without a second thought. He's twisted, broken, he likes the violence, the killing. And he knows how to cover his tracks." Anderson laughed shortly. "He pinned the whole disaster on me. Saren had his proof that humanity wasn't ready, I was kicked out of the Spectres, and it was all hushed up. I couldn't tell you, Jane."

"I know that, sir." Shepard processed the revelation carefully, turning the new information over in her mind. It explained Anderson's willingness to pursue Saren. He knew he was dirty, twisted. In the end, it was just another nail in Saren's coffin. Shepard leaned back in her chair with a grunt. "Damn. That son of a bitch is good."

"He is," Anderson cracked a smile. "I knew how twisted he was, but I couldn't do anything. It was hard, especially after he became the Council's top agent."

"Not anymore," Shepard said grimly, "Now, we can put him in the ground."

Anderson nodded. "He's dangerous. He has to be stopped, before he gets whatever it is he's after, the Beacons, and the Reapers." Anderson sighed, "Well, Commander. You asked if I was going with you, and I'm not. The Council doesn't trust my judgment, they know that Saren and I have a history. I'm stepping down from command of the Normandy—"

Shepard snapped to her feet—she had known something was wrong! "You can't—they can't! David, the Normandy is your ship! I'm a marine, sir. I don't have the training or the experience for the big chair."

"You're the Executive Officer, Shepard, you know this ship inside and out. Lieutenant Commander Pressly is more than qualified to handle the ship's systems. I know the two of you can work together," Anderson said, "The Normandy is quick and quiet, the perfect ship for a Spectre. You can do this, Commander. It's time for me step down."

Jane's heart was pounding. Not this. Not this on top of everything. She wasn't ready. Her hands balled into fists. _But you would be free. In command._ Jane collapsed into her chair and put her elbows on her knees, rubbing at the scar on her eyebrow. "Damn the Council!"

"It's part of my deal, Commander," Anderson said, "I needed to get out of the way. The Council was furious that we used deadly force on the Citadel, Shepard, and I can't blame them. But we needed that data, it needed to be done. And now, I need to take the fall."

"It was my call, sir," Shepard growled, "I ran that mission. I pulled the trigger."

Captain Anderson frowned. "I taught you better, Jane. The responsibility was mine, I made the command decision. Now it's your turn, and I know you're ready."

Shepard hung her head, letting the drumbeat of her racing heart drown out the frantic whispering in the back of her mind.

"I believe in you, Shepard," Anderson said softly, and Shepard heard him rise to his feet. Shepard forced herself to look up. Captain Anderson raised a weathered hand in a salute. She forced herself to stand. She forced herself to salute.

"You're the one who can stop Saren, Jane," Anderson said, "If that means I have to step aside, so be it. I've already talked with the Senior Officers, Shepard. Now it's time to speak with them yourself, and Naval Headquarters is on the line in the radio room. Then I want you out of here and after Saren, you hear me?"

"Sir," Shepard groaned, "I can't! You know what happened. The Beacon…did something to me. I don't trust myself. I can't be in command!"

"I trust you, Shepard," Anderson said simply. He gave her a gentle smile, "You're the only one with the information from the Beacon, you have to do this. You know the magnitude of the threat. I'll do my best to convince Udina and the Council that the Reapers are real, but you need to be in the field. Work with Doctor Chakwas and use the data from the Beacon, don't let it use you. Find the Conduit."

"What do I tell the crew, sir?"

"The truth, Shepard. Always tell them the truth." Anderson walked around his desk and his hand hovered in the air by her elbow. Anderson squeezed her arm, once, and then folded his hands behind his back. "You're the right choice. Let the crew do their jobs. Take care of them, Jane."

_Damn it, don't do this to me, David! I can't protect them!_ In the end, Shepard had to lie. Shepard always lied. "Yes, sir. I'll do the job."

* * *

"Lieutenant Alenko and Gunnery Chief Williams, please report to the communications room," The Normandy VI echoed through the cargo bay, "Lieutenant Alenko and Gunnery Chief Williams, please report to the communications room."

Kaidan leaned back on the crate he was sitting on in the cargo bay with the Normandy Marines, closing his handheld computer. Wondering why he had been summoned to the Communications Room, Kaidan glanced at his wrist. The Normandy VI hadn't transmitted any additional details to his omni-tool, and he wasn't expecting any mail. Ship's mail had been delivered in a buoy dump when they arrived at the Citadel, but the classified nature of their operations meant that they couldn't send or receive live personal communications.

"Hey, get moving, Ell-Tee! Maybe we're finally getting some fucking info, sir," Private Monica Negulesco said.

Kaidan smiled. "If I did I wouldn't share it with you, Negulesco, not after your performance in the simulator. You'll have to do better than that."

The Normandy Marines let out a chorus of hoots and whistles and Kaidan smiled. They were waiting for the official report from the Council, and the ship had been buzzing with rumors. Alpha Squad was chomping at the bit in particular. They were tired of simulations and calibrating their arms with new ammunition and scanners. Not that Shepard had made it easy for them. The woman was a sadist—Alpha Squad had been battered by wave after wave of holographic husks patterned after the creatures they had encountered on Eden Prime, followed by merciless armies of krogan and synthetics. Kaidan had no idea when she had time to program the simulations, but he was glad she hadn't been there to run them herself. He knew it would have been worse, far worse.

Negulesco was splayed on a unfolded plastic recliner, chewing a wad of pink bubblegum and painting her nails. Her foot was tapping. Private Tucks swiped a poker chip and chucked it at her back. Tucks, Shay, and Laflamme were playing poker. Private Laflamme's used Tuck's distraction as an opportunity to peek at the array of cards on the upturned crate in front of him. Laflamme showed Shay the cards, rubbed at the knots of rusty hair on the top of his dark head, and then dropped his hand. "I'm out, _ami_." Laflamme closed his eyes and slid his beret down his face.

Tucks swore, "No fair, man!"

"_C'est la vie_," Laflamme chuckled.

Kaidan stood, smiling. "Alright, Tucks, cool down. All of you, I want to find the Makos in one piece when I get back, you hear me?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Smiling, Kaidan walked across the cargo bay towards the Gunnery Chief. She was working on her rifle and the new tungsten-carbide ammunition on the table next to the armory cage. "You coming, Chief?"

"Yes, sir," Williams slid the stock onto the magnetic rail and then compressed the rifle into its storage block. "Just need to square this away," she gestured at the table, full of loose ammunition.

She started cleaning up the workbench. Kaidan joined her, sliding the loose bolts into a clear plastic clips and slotting the clips into a container.

"Thanks, Lieutenant."

"Of course, Chief."

Ashley met his eyes and gave him a controlled smile. She was still aloof, but her attitude had abated since he had taken her aside the day before. She had really pulled through during the simulations. Kaidan knew Williams was a good Marine, she was just hurting, and for good reasons. He thought back to their conversation the previous evening as he stowed the tungsten impactors. He had tried to get her back on track, to get her out of her head and onto the team. She had been sinking into a morass of self-pity and anger. She knew she was green, on loan to an Interplanetary Combatives Team for the first time. But Kaidan had told her what Shepard had told him: get her head out of her ass, start acting like a soldier, stop fighting, and start learning.

"How are you doing, Williams?" Kaidan murmured as he fit an impactor into a transparent clip.

"I know you're trying to help, Lieutenant," Ashley said, "We all lost men on Eden Prime. But every marine on this boat keeps talking to me like I'm some raw recruit. I went through hell on Eden Prime, I'm a Gunnery Chief, and a damn good one, sir."

Kaidan nodded slowly. "I get it, Williams. I do. But trust me, Chief, you wouldn't be here if the Commander thought you couldn't hack it, so stop acting like we pity you. Sure, it's terrible that you lost a lot of good people on Eden Prime. It was a nasty situation, but if you think that affects our work, you're dead wrong."

Ashley hesitated, and then the rhythmic rattle of the shells continued. Ashley shook her head, her voice lowering, "You're kidding yourself, Alenko. The Commander doesn't care about me."

"You're wrong," Kaidan grinned, "The Commander doesn't care who you are, sure, or where you came from. But that's because she only cares about one thing, and that's the job. And she's damn good at her job, as I think you've seen."

Ashley stared at him and Kaidan smiled a moment, Ashley spoke softly. "I heard she was a ground pounder like me. But she's not. She's something different."

"You're right, Williams," Kaidan whistled, "She's, well, she pushes herself harder than anyone I've ever seen. She lives for the fight. She never stops. She's the best of us, Williams. She doesn't like us. Shepard keeps us alive. She clears the way and we watch her back. This is her war, and we are her army." Kaidan grinned, "You're here because the Commander thinks you're one badass marine. So get on board, Williams."

Williams let out a laugh. "I'm on board, Alenko, just stop sweet-talking me. Please. It's painful."

"Alright, Williams." Kaidan stacked a set of magazines in the storage box, smiling to himself.

"We're done, sir, thank you," Ashley locked the cases in the armory cage.

They took the elevator to the Habitation Deck in silence. In the mess hall, several crewmen were speaking in hushed whispers. The entire ship was holding its breath. As they ascended the stairs to the Command Deck, Kaidan felt a thread of anxiety tightening his muscles and static electricity rose on the back of his neck. Standing in front of the door were Fredricks and Hsaio, who saluted at their approach. Kaidan returned their salute and Hsaio tapped the door controls and buzzed them in.

Inside the room, the insulating tiles deadened the thrum of the reactor. It was dead silent. Commander Shepard was standing in front of the inactive projector, staring into the shadows. Her shoulders were taut, the fringe of copper hair darker and redder in the dim light. Her black roots glittering with a halo of flyaway hairs. The ring of communications consoles were unlit, the chairs empty. "Lieutenant Alenko and Chief Williams reporting as ordered, sir!"

"At ease, Alenko, Williams. Sit down."

Kaidan took a seat and Williams followed him, leaving an empty space between them and the Commander. Alenko cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I ask what's going on, Commander?"

"You'll find out soon enough, Alenko."

The doors flickered open and Joker entered. His leg braces hummed as he hobbled towards Kaidan. Kaidan clasped his hand and said quietly, "How are you doing, Joker?"

"Wondering why I had to drag myself down here," Joker said loudly, "Don't you usually come to me, Commander?"

"For some reason, Lieutenant," Shepard said dryly, "We're stationary, Joker. The ship will survive without your attention for five minutes."

"Damn it, Commander," Joker muttered as he lowered himself carefully into the seat, "You say stuff like that and, blam! That's when the shit hits the fan."

The doors opened again and Garrus Vakarian entered, followed by Tali'Zorah. Commander Shepard spared a smile for Tali'Zorah as she took her seat, and Kaidan raised an eyebrow. The young alien folded her ankles and hands together and looked around nervously. Joker blew her a kiss, and Tali's glowing eyes became white orbs and then she let out a laugh. When everyone was seated, the Commander cleared her throat and stood in front of the project, hands behind her back. Silence fell. Kaidan tugged at his rolled-up sleeves nervously. Shepard paced back and forth, two steps, and then stopped. She looked up.

"I've been granted Spectre Status and I'm taking command of the Normandy," Commander Shepard said. Her face was expressionless. "We're going after Saren and going to stop him before he finds the Conduit. The Captain has stepped down, effective immediately."

Kaidan's eyes widened and he rocked backwards. Joker was the first to speak. "Son of bitch! You can't let that happen Commander!"

"I don't have a choice, Joker," Shepard said harshly. "It's done."

"Damn it, the skipper survives a hundred battles and gets taken out by backroom politics," Joker muttered, "The captain got screwed, Commander. I can't believe it!"

"Then we make it right, Joker," Kaidan found his voice. He met Shepard's green eyes with his own. "The Captain's sacrifice won't be in vain, Commander. We'll capture Saren."

"Hold it, Lieutenant," Shepard drew in a breath, "Now's your chance to jump ship, all of you, before we leave dock."

"Don't be ridiculous, Shepard," Garrus said, "We're in this till the end."

"Don't be so sure, Vakarian." Shepard shook her head. "You all need to know something, before you decide. The Prothean Beacon on Eden Prime downloaded_...information _into my brain. The Protheans were fighting a war with a race of machines called the Reapers, and they lost. The Reapers wiped out their entire civilization. The Beacons are a warning. I warned the Council, but they won't listen."

"Hold on, Commander," Williams interjected, "What about Saren? What does Eden Prime have to do with this?"

"Williams, Saren is searching for the Beacons," Shepard said tightly, "He attacked Eden Prime for the Beacon. He's using the information to try and find the Conduit to the Reapers. He wants to bring them back. I don't know why, I don't know how, but we have to get there first. Or it's over. For everyone."

Kaidan was stunned. The ramifications were enormous. His stomach clenched as he thought about the wave of green light that had seized him like a biotic field. The pins and needles behind his eyes. The searing pain—and then, the Commander had thrown him to safety. And she had risen into the air, and a single scream had been ripped out of her throat before the emerald lightning had transfixed her body and sent spasms racing through her outstretched arms and legs. He had screwed up, getting that close to the Beacon. _It could have been me_, Kaidan thought. Kaidan felt a headache forming at his temples and rubbed at the faded scars on the back of his neck. _It could have been me!_

Joker whistled. "Damn, Commander. That's some messed up shit. But I have to ask, are you sure that the Beacons are, you know, real?" Joker held ups hands, "I'm not doubting you, Commander, but what if what you say was just some...virtual game? And we're just chasing smoke?"

"It's real," Shepard's neck was taut and her voice was cold and flat. "I've seen their memories. I've seen the end of civilization."

"Ancestors, Shepard…" Tali'Zorah whispered, "Are you alright?"

"I'm handling it," Shepard said, her eyelids lowering. "It's trying to communicate, Tali, but I can't understand it."

"The organic interface must be incredibly sophisticated," Tali'Zorah breathed, "But it has limits. The Beacon must have been a truly incredible work of engineering!"

"Incredible is not the word I would use," Joker muttered "They couldn't just write this down? I mean, seriously. Carve it into a moon or something."

Kaidan laughed, and felt a tightness lift from his chest. Even one corner of Shepard's lip curled.

"So what does this mean?" Garrus murmured, "For us?"

Shepard straightened and there was a snap in her voice, "Lieutenant Alenko, Chief Williams, Lieutenant Moreau" Everyone sat up a little straighter, even Joker, as Shepard paced forward, "This is your last chance. You want a transfer off this boat, you've got it, no questions asked, and no black marks on your record."

"I can't leave the Normandy, she's my baby!" Joker chuckled.

"Not a chance, Commander." Kaiden said.

Williams shook her head, "I'm in this for Eden Prime."

Shepard gave them a hard smile, a flash of teeth like a tiger, "Then you're in. There is a chance that I could be distracted by the Beacon in the field. You'll need to keep a sharp eye."

"Roger that, Commander," Williams said.

Kaiden swallowed. He knew that wasn't good, but he had to be ready, "I screwed up once, ma'am, I'm not going to do it again."

Shepard nodded and turned to the pilot, "Joker, I'm not a naval officer, I'm relying on you to operate the Normandy."

"How distracted, Commander?" Joker tugged on his hat, "You aren't going to start spouting alien gibberish, right?"

"I don't know," Shepard said, "All I know is that this is the information we need to find the Conduit before Saren, we just need to decipher it. We're going to Therum in the Knossos System to retrieve Doctor Liara T'Soni, an expert on the Protheans. She'll provide us with insight into the Beacon. Garrus, Tali'Zorah—this is where you can leave. You're civilians. You don't have to follow me down the rabbit hole."

"Never! I trust you, Shepard," Tali'Zorah said. She looked down at her hands and then raised her glowing eyes, "This is something I have to do."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," Garrus laughed, "I'm in this till the end, Shepard."

Kaidan looked around at Shepard's strange collection of allies. _It could have been me. But it had to be Commander Shepard. She's the only one who can do this._ "We've all got your back, Commander. We'll find the Conduit."

"Thank you, Kaidan," Shepard said quietly. The Commander smiled again, a brief spark that was swallowed by the night in a single moment. The Commander pierced each of them with a swift stare. "I swear to you, we will get the job done. No matter what happens to me. Joker—get back in the cockpit and take us out. We're done here."

"See, Commander?" Joker hauled himself to his feet with a heavy sigh, "I came all the way down here for nothing."

* * *

**Therum, Knossos System, Artemis Tau**

**2183.07.16**

The mining laser deactivated with one last pulse of light. Steams billowed inside the tunnel and was drawn into the industrial ventilators that were connected to the mining station on the surface through two kilometers of solid rock. Flying shrapnel of superheated rock rattled against the sides of the tunnel, snapping and snarling. The steam dissipated and the floodlights mounted on the laser pierced the darkness.

Liara T'Soni removed her protective goggles and breathing mask. There it was, the Unidentified Prothean Object, that was what the humans called it. And it wasn't a ruin—it was intact. Perspiration clung to Liara's luminous blue skin and her heart starting thrumming. This was the biggest find of her life!

The laser had broken into a rock chimney, a cave that stretched along the right flank of the cylinder. The floodlamps played across the curved dome of white tiles, several hundred meters across. Dark plumes of solidified lava encased the far side of the cylindrical structure. The beams of light darted down the side of the ruin and revealed windows in the tiled surface, glowing with blue light. In a flash, Liara realized that the Unidentified Prothean Object had once extended a kinetic barrier that kept the melting rock from fully encircling the cylinder, now, the field had retreated inside the structure leaving a system of vents and caves in the stone. Liara took an unwitting step forwards, drawn towards her past, her future, her destiny.

"Careful, Doctor T'Soni, don't get any closer until the rock cools!" Engineer Khwanrudi Saengchan called out from the controls of the mining laser.

Reluctantly, Liara tore her gaze away from the narrow vision of the Prothean Object. She let out a reluctant breath. "You're right, of course, thank you. When can we begin our excavation?"

"Give it a few minutes, Doctor." Saengchan said, "Shut her down, girls, and bring me some mass effect harnesses and flares!"

Saengchan shut down the power and then tapped the side of her white safety helmet. The visor slid open and Saengchan rubbed the back of one gloved hand across her sweat-stained forward, streaking it was dust. She joined Liara at the lip of the glowing tunnel, curls of steam wrapping around her padded yellow-and-orange suit. "Eldfell-Ashland Energy" was plastered across her chest. Saengchan peered into the chimney and grunted. "Huh! Ground scanners couldn't show us this, T'Soni."

"No, they did not. It's beautiful, Saengchan," Liara smiled, "Though we'll have to find a way around the kinetic barriers."

Saengchan opened up her omni-tool and displayed a exterior map of the structure, "I've been thinking about that. We did a scan before the final dig, look. You see how it's sinking into the lava pocket of this volcano? We think it's weakened the bottom left corner. We'll build a scaffold inside the chimney, lower the laser on an effect rig, and then cut a secondary tunnel to access the bottom of the cylinder using a reinforced access tube."

"How much time do we have?" Liara asked nervously.

"We don't know, Doctor," Saengchan muttered, "We're dealing with an active volcano. But EAE put a lot of credits into this project, Doctor T'Soni. We need to get inside."

"I couldn't agree more," Liara smiled. "This is the find of the century!"

"Sure thing, Doctor." Saengchan jerked her thumb over her shoulder, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to prep the advance team."

Saengchan retreated from the mouth of the tunnel. Liara remained, staring longingly at the white tiles that glowed with dim blue radiance. The biggest find of the century, she knew it. It could confirm her theories about the extinction. More than that, it could provide her with critical insight into the true nature of the mysterious race that had vanished over fifty thousand years ago. How did they think, Liara wondered, how did their neural network process the world? How did they feel, how did they taste? She shivered, running her hands along her scalp tendrils, brushing a layer of perspiration along her gentle fingers. Unexpectedly, she felt a stab of longing, almost desperation. If only her mother could see this the way Liara could, see the wondrous beauty of a truly alien species. Liara dismissed the strange thought. Her mother was trapped by her position, by her obsession with power. Liara had escaped, and she didn't want to look back.

She turned towards the mining laser. Behind the laser a dozen workers were unloading supplies from crates. Standing next to a standing light, the engineer was typing on her wrist, "Doc! I'm sending some personnel back to Nova Yekaterinburg for supplies. Need anything?"

"No, thank you. I was too excited to wait, so I brought my computer and gear," Liara gestured at one of the smaller white crates.

"Huh," Saengchan grunted. "We're almost there, Doctor."

"I know," Liara grinned. "I—"

Chips of stone started to shiver on the ridged surface of the tunnel. Puffs of dust swirled in the hot air. A tremor raced through the red rock Liara's knees buckled. The asari gasped and threw out her hands, stumbling towards the tunnel wall. The lights rattled and swayed. The tumble of shadows rang with shouts of surprise and the snap and crackle of falling flakes of rock. Then the tremor was over. Coughing up searing hot dust, Liara waved a hand in front of her face.

"Masks on, sound off!" Saengchan called out. "Doc, are you alright?"

"Yes," Liara choked, fumbling for her transparent breather and fitting the mask to her mouth. "I'm fine!"

"We better move fast, Doctor T'Soni," Saengchan said, "Or we're going to be trapped down here."

Liara nodded reluctantly. This was the biggest find of her entire life. She wasn't going to let a little volcano get in the way.

* * *

**Virmire, Hoc System, Sentry Omega**

**2183.07.16**

The wind carried the scent of the ocean. Salt spray flew from the crests of azure waves and wafted across the beaches. Delicate emerald leaves swayed in the breeze. The white sun lapped at the surface of the waves and sent scintillating murmurs of gold and bronze across the open sea. An agonizing scream rent the air, and a flock of brightly-plumed birds darted into the air.

Benezia glided onto the balcony and saw Saren, facing the ocean. She cleared her throat and spoke. "I have unfortunate news."

Saren's ocular implants shone in the sunlight. His talons dug into the railing until, with a whine of cybernetic electromuscles, his diamond-tipped claws cut the balustrade into shreds. There was a crackling sound as he withdrew his hands and bits of plastic scattered across the spraycrete balcony. The breeze carried fragments of plastic out over the cliffs and clinging trees and towards the concrete bastions that housed the planetary defense cannons. The ocean swept around the artificial islands and formed a latticework of waves radiating towards the coast.

A roar rattled the sky, a roar laced with pain and rage. The roar was replaced gurgling sounds broken by desperate breaths, and then a high-pitched squeal— Benezia blinked. "Saren?"

"I heard you," Saren whispered.

He turned and Benezia fell in behind him, silent, her hands folded inside her turquoise robes. A long tunnel led into the base and the blast doors closed behind them automatically. Saren's heavy tread echoed on the tiles and, at his approach, Benezia could hear a sound akin to a whimper. It grated on her nerves, but, for Saren, it evoked a different reaction. He shifted his head and she saw his mangled face cracked into a smile, metal tendons glinting in the gaping holes in his cheeks. "Progress is being made, Benezia, see?"

The test subject was laid out on an elevated metal table. A surgical mech hung like a bloated insect on the ceiling above the subject. Its thin, segmented arms withdrew with a hum when they entered the room, revealing the krogan immobilized on the slab. At least, the mound of flesh that had once been a krogan. Benezia could identify the line of its split hooves, its clawed hands emerging from a pulped mass of organs and cybernetic implants, one finger still twitching. Black cables wound around exposed bone. The ugly mouth gaped and closed. Born in a gestation tube, the poor creature still retained the capacity to feel pain—and fear. Distracted, Saren hunched over his prey pinned to the examination table, until Benezia cleared her throat. The Spectre rose with a cold laugh. "Of course. What news, Benezia? Tell me."

Beneiza inclined her head. "Unfortunately, I have bad news. You will not be pleased."

"Stop prevaricating and speak, woman," Saren hissed.

"Very well. My contact on the Council confirms what you already suspected. The Council has not only condemned you, they have provided the human with Spectre Status. She is hunting you as we speak."

They had anticipated this once eventuality it had become clear that Commander Shepard had retrieved the quarian. However, time had not dulled Saren's displeasure. Benezia kept her eye fixed on the holographic projector but she could still see Saren's talons rip into the organic flesh of his palms. She could see the quiver in his neck and eyes as the chemicals in his bloodstream reacted to the injury. Saren swallowed his anger. "Very…well…Benezia…" Saren panted, "I was expecting this turn of events. This is nothing. Meaningless. I shall continue my work."

"Perhaps," Benezia murmured, "We went too far with our presumptive strike on Eden Prime. When you find the next Beacon, we could move in secret...?"

"Too far…?" Saren whispered, blood dripping down his palms, "My years of service. The blood on my talons. The countless…secrets…I have kept." Saren's voice rose to a shriek and he turned on Benezia, spitting, "The fact that I and I alone stand between the galaxy and total destruction!? That I keep you, you pathetic, mewling, morons safe from extermination? I have gone too far? No. This is just the beginning." He flicked one talon and drops of blood spattered Benezia's face.

She didn't move. "We must contain the damage. I'm thinking only of our plans, Arterius."

"Do what you must," Saren snapped, "Shepard is nothing, nothing!"

Suddenly a loud hiss echoed from the test subject spread upon the slab. Saren's eyes began to glow. "Look, Benezia! This is the future, my army. Shepard is nothing."

Benezia knew what was going to happen. She stared dispassionately at a point in space above the test subject as something shuddered beneath the mass of purple organs. The flesh began to contract like a deflating balloon, tightening into a webbed mass until, with gouts of hot gas, black metal spines erupted from the krogan's chest cavity. Her nostrils flared as she reluctantly inhaled the scent of fresh meat. The krogan's arms and legs writhed as the tough hide tightened and cracked, revealing thick strands of cybernetic black muscles. Streaks of black mucus poured out of holes in the skin onto the grated floor, splattering the grate with fragments of sloughed skin. There was a splintering sound like breaking ice and the krogan's crest cracked apart, revealing seeds of silvery metal that squirmed across the bone, forming a crown of spines. The subject's eyes began to melt, vitreous fluid bubbling and popping. Inside the skull, the sockets began to glow with blue fire.  
Saren began to laugh. The turian reached out and stroked the husk's jaw with one bloody claw,

"Yes, Benezia… This is just the beginning."

Benezia cracked her lips. "Our research bears promising fruit, Arterius. Combining the regenerative abilities of the krogan species with the power of the threshing machines. Sovereign will be pleased."

Saren's good humor vanished. His face twisted into a snarl and his hand snapped tight around the husk's throat. His claws dug into the mesh of skin and carbon fiber. He drummed his fingers on the leathery surface and then withdrew his hand with a tortured growl. "We need the Conduit, Benezia! This army is worthless without the means to reactive the Citadel Relay!"

"It is…unfortunate," Benezia lied, "We must be patient, Saren, until we find another Beacon."

The visions were fragmented and confused. The Beacons rejected the tainted touch of Saren's mind. Sovereign had been unable to help; the Prothean Beacon was specifically designed to detect and reject the presence of the Reapers. Benezia was grateful. The delay had allowed her more time to prepare for the coming storm. Wheels within wheels, plans within plans. The Reapers were going to return, and they had to prepare for the war that would end all life. Saren believed he was preserving the Council Species from extermination, Saren believed that that Benezia supported his plot to supplant the Council and open the gate to the Reapers, and Benezia…what was her plan? Her head ached with pain.

"There is another way…" Saren whispered.

Benezia froze. "No, Saren, there is no need."

"Yes…" Saren whispered, "It is time, Beneiza. I need your daughter."

"I have told you before, she is useless." Benezia lied.

"I need her knowledge," Saren licked his lips. "She can meld with me…decipher the Beacons."

"She is too weak—"

"Her survival is not…necessary."

Benezia closed her eyes. She had destroyed her reputation, her free will, and, in all probability, her life, to prevent the return of the Reapers. Now, Saren asked for her daughter's life. And Benezia knew she had to wait for the right moment. The final moment.

"Of course, Saren. It will be done."

It was necessary.

* * *

**Codex: Ships and Vehicles/Normandy SR-1/Log**

_SHIPWIDE 1MC 2183.07.16—This is Commander Shepard speaking. I have assumed command of the Normandy. Captain Anderson We have our orders: find Saren. I won't lie to you, this mission isn't going to be easy. This began with an attack on Eden Prime. Thirty thousand people are dead. But we know Saren won't stop there. His geth armies aren't going to stay on the far fringes of Citadel Space. Our enemy know we're coming. Wherever he goes, we'll be there. We hunt him to the very ends of the galaxy and bring him down. Humanity needs to do this. Not just for our own sake, but for the sake of every other species in Citadel Space. Saren must be stopped, and I promise you all…we will stop him._

[Updated 29-May-2016]


	15. Therum (One)

IMPORTANT A/N _First, I apologize for the delay. I was reviewing and updating the previous chapters. Every chapter has received cosmetic improvements and the first two chapters have been reorganized. Most importantly, this was only mys second story and, unfortunately, I made a mistake in Chapter 13. I revealed the true nature of the Prothean Beacon too soon. I have modified Chapter 13 and Chapter 14 and Shepard is as yet unaware of the true nature of the Beacon. If you want to reread Chapter 13 and 14, this will be made clear, but it's up to you. ___I believe my changes make this a better and more coherent story. _Thank you for reading and I'm sorry for any confusion. _

**Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula  
**

**2183.07.17**

The flash and crackle of the cameras bathed the stage in white light. Drones floated overhead, circling the chamber like sharks. Ambassador Udina stood at the head of the stairs leading into the Council Chamber, his gnarled hands slapping the lectern. His white hair glittered in the light of the cameras and played across the rippling banners of the Systems Alliance the Citadel Council behind him. Udina was transformed by a ruthless smile, his dark eyes glittering. "There is no doubt we are at war!" Udina snarled, "But make no mistake, while humanity did not begin this war, we will be the ones to end it. Thanks to the combined efforts of the Systems Alliance and the Citadel Council, Saren Arterius will be brought to justice!" Udina snapped his hand through the air, "Thank you for your support. There will be no more questions at this time."

The flock of reporters snapped to their feet. "Ambassador—Ambassador Udina, one more question!"

"Ambassador! When can we interview Commander Shepard, what is she hiding!"

"What Eden Prime and the other colonies?"

"Is there any truth to reports that Saren is insane, Ambassador?"

Udina withdrew from the podium and his press secretary took the microphone with an artificial smile. "The ambassador said no more questions! There will be no more questions at this time—"

David Anderson tapped the key and terminated the feed from the Presidium. He opened a new screen and scanned the news stations. The talking heads and armchair admirals were shrieking into their microphones. Anderson weighed the panicked reports with his own understanding of the situation. He knew that the Alliance was preparing for the worst, anticipating more geth attacks on isolated colonies. Their worst fear was that the Batarian Hegemony would join the fray. Already, pirates and slavers were poised to exploit the situation for material gain, but if the Hegemony mobilized for invasion the Alliance would be stretched to the breaking point. A flash of video caught his, and Anderson returned his focus to the screen. Shepard was back in the news—they were playing old reports from the media tour after the Blitz and speculating on her military career. Anderson sighed, Shepard had been right: the press would have ripped her visions apart. He was heartened that they had kept her experience out of the official report.

With a sigh, Anderson leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the polished polymer of the desk. The galaxy was ready to burst into flame, and Ambassador Udina, through no fault of his own, had just thrown fuel on the fire. The public had a right to know who was responsible for the attack on Eden Prime, but his press conference had sent tremors radiating through Citadel Space. Saren Arterius had been disavowed and trust in the Council had been shaken. Stock markets were down, military expenditures were up, and inter-planetary traffic had slowed to a crawl. Given the price they had paid, it was a miracle that the Council had disavowed their chief enforcer, despite the evidence.

Anderson glanced at the stack of pads on the desk containing the classified testimony of Manuel Hernandez, Wayne Powell, and Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams from Eden Prime. Communications, audiovisual, and sensor data from the Normandy. And, of course, the smoking gun, the memory core implicating Saren Arterius and Matriarch Benezia.

Once the Council had accepted their evidence, hundreds of agents had rounded up Saren's known contacts on the Citadel and interrogated them for information. The Council had opened an investigation into Benezia's business holdings and frozen her accounts, but they were too late. Billions of credits were missing and the two conspirators had vanished.

The captain shook his head. It was up to Shepard to find the son-of-a-bitch, now. After decades avoiding a promotion that would have removed him from field operations, Anderson was finally trapped behind a desk and assigned to the embassy as military attaché, a diplomatic cover for his real role as a spook. Either way, his days in the field were over. Now he was pushing bytes of data around a computer.

With a grunt, the captain pushed away from his desk and opened the left-hand drawer, removing a bottle of Kentucky bourbon and two glass tumblers. The glasses pinched between two fingers, he carried the bottle into the ambassador's lounge. Anderson set the tumblers on the table and the leaned on the railing that overlook the Presidium, balancing the bottle beside him.

The doors opened with a pneumatic hiss and the ambassador entered. "Congratulations, Ambassador," Captain Anderson, raising the bottle with a faint smile.

Udina gave a bark of laughter as he tossed his data-pad on the table, "Very well, Captain. Thank you."

The two men sat at the table and Anderson poured them both a glass. "To the first human Spectre," Anderson said.

"To a seat on the Council," Udina replied, his eyes glittering.

Anderson took a sip of the smooth whiskey and then raised his eyebrows when Udina drained the glass. Anderson chuckled, "That's a sipping whiskey, Udina."

"Not today," Udina replied with a hard smile, "They're already calling for Sparatus' resignation. The other councilors are standing with him, for now, but it's only a matter of time."

Anderson frowned, "He might be a stubborn fool, Ambassador, but we have bigger things to worry about."

"That's your department," Udina snorted, pouring himself a second glass. "Besides, Anderson, think of the opportunity! We need a seat on the Council. Then—and only then!—we'll have the power we need." Udina took a sip and then wiped his mouth, "Now! Do we have any reports from Shepard?"

Anderson glanced at his omni-tool. "They're eight hours out from the Knossos System. We won't hear anything until 2200."

"Fine," Udina grunted, "I need something to feed the press, Anderson. Good news is preferable, but bad news will do with the right spin. We need to show the press that we're hunting that bastard down."

"If anyone can find him, it's Shepard," Anderson said. "She's the best, Udina."

The ambassador raised his glass in a reluctant salute. "We needed a hero, Anderson! We needed a symbol, and we're running out of time. The Council is using her, Anderson. You heard that they refused to giver her a new partner, despite the fact that Kryik's dead?" he spat, "They claim that Kryik completed her training! Ha! The Council wants her to fail, and if she makes a mistake…" Udina slammed his palm on the table. "The Council will destroy her—and all our hopes."

"She won't make a mistake," Anderson said, "Give her a chance and she'll prove herself the greatest soldier in a generation."

Udina poured himself a third glass. "She's already made a mistake, Anderson, talking about the Reapers! You heard the Council, the Reapers are just a fabrication. Saren is the proper target."

Anderson shook his head. Udina put zero stock in the myths and visions contained within the Beacons, but Anderson wasn't so sure. "I know Saren, Ambassador and he's no fool. If he believes the Reapers are real, whatever they are, then we have to accept the possibility that they are a real and present danger. What if they are an ancient super-weapon? We can't take the risk."

Udina grunted, his eyes flickered as he reconsidered the danger. "Damn it, Anderson. If you're wrong…!"

"Shepard discovered something inside the Beacon," Anderson pressed. "Saren is just the beginning, Ambassador."

Udina drained his glass and wiped his mouth. "Let's hope you're wrong, Anderson," he muttered, "God help us if you're right. Shepard's the only one standing between us and the galactic bogeyman. "

"God help us all, Ambassador," Anderson said grimly, "God help us all."

* * *

**SSV Normandy, Deep Space, Artemis Tau**

**2183.07.17**

SHEPARD! The scream shattered the silence in the cabin. Jane's eyes snapped open. Her cabin was bathed in green light and lashing shadows, the hairs on her arms tingling and—she was floating in the air just a foot above her bunk. Jane gasped and then, with a cry, she fell onto the bed and the light died. Bang! Bang! Bang! Something crashed into the deck, and Shepard automatically grappled for her gun—but it was gone. Panting and soaked in sweat, Shepard scanned the darkened room. "Lights!"

She was alone in her cabin. Her head pounded with a distant drum of pain and she burned with the fading glow of iron smashed with a hammer. The lights were too bright and her optic nerves tingled with pain. Tongues of emerald flames licked up her spine, tingling with electrical discharges. She couldn't think, the voice was too loud, but she couldn't understand what it was trying to say. Shepard stuck her fist in her mouth and screamed until her chest felt tight and her mindless fear and rage abated, just enough so that she could stop and think.

Breathing hard, Shepard looked around the small cabin. Her sheets were tangled over her desk chair, halfway across the cabin, and her gun and pillow were lying on the ground. Lying on the deck was the metal model of the SSV Agincourt that Captain Anderson had left on his—her—desk. Captain Anderson had left her the model after he had removed his sparse belongings from the austere chamber.

Shepard groaned and raised her trembling hands. Her hands tingled. What was happening to her? Shepard drew her knees up to her chest and pressed her palms into her forehead. She didn't want to dream. To see it all over again, in her sleep. She didn't want to hear the voice, the whispers, louder and deeper than the ocean. Shepard still didn't understand what the voice was trying to say. She needed Dr. T'Soni—someone who could translate visions and the voice that the Prothean Beacon had implanted in her skull. If she didn't get a grip soon, the voice was going to get her killed.

Shepard crawled out of bed and scratched at her aching skull, peeling strands of damp hair away from her face. Her eyes stung, and Shepard scrubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. Right now, she needed Dr. Chakwas and a hefty dose of painkillers. Jane out a harsh laugh and shed the last dregs of her nightmare like a wet dog.

The captain's cabin had a metal sink that slide out of a panel beside the narrow bunk. The sink hissed into position and the drain slid open. Shepard splashed freezing water on her face with a shudder and stared into the small mirror. Droplets collected on her dark lashes and slid down her white face. Shepard slammed one hand on the side of the sink with a snarl and the metal bent with a squeal. Shepard pushed the sink into the bulkhead. She pulled out a plastic-wrapped uniform from under her bunk. There was no way she was going back to sleep.

* * *

The Normandy was quiet. The steady thrum of the antiproton drive sent shivers through the ship as they continued to decelerate towards their destination, the Knossos System. Eight hours and they would drop out of the massless envelope generated by the Relay. Commander Presley had plotted a military transition into the system—at an angle above the plane of the ecliptic, avoiding enemy combatants. When they arrived, they could assess the situation and discharge their drive core before proceeding deeper into the system.

The third watch was sitting at the consoles, ready for action—but the majority of the crew was asleep in their pods, including Alpha Team. Garrus Vakarian and Tali'Zorah should be asleep in the Senior Officers Quarters. The Navigator was standing watch in Combat Information Control, and Shepard spared him a few quiet words. Presley was withdrawn but professional, and Shepard knew that their working relationship was intact despite their personal disagreements. More than anything, Presley loved the Navy and the Normandy. He was on board.

Commander Shepard prowled around Combat Information Control, her hands behind her back and her pale face gleaming in the light of the holographic controls. She strode along the operations deck to the cockpit. As she approached, she heard voices.

"…I'm worried, Joker. We're on our own out here."

"We'll be fine, Alenko!" Lieutenant Moreau replied, "No one can see us, not even the geth. This baby is the best ship in the fleet."

"I'm not worried about the Normandy, man, it's…We're up against a Spectre and a whole army. This is just a simple snatch and grab, but what if we run into trouble? I'm just thinking."

"You've got the big turkey and the cute engineer, too."

"Yeah, Vakarian is a cop," Kaidan said softly, "He did a stint with tactical response and he's a trained marksman, but he's not one of us—not yet. Don't get me wrong, he has valuable insights into Saren. I was just hoping for a little more firepower."

"You're nuts, Alenko," Joker chuckled, "And did I mention the quarian babe?"

"Yes, Joker. You did."

"She loves me. I can tell."

Shepard shook her head and entered the cockpit. "At ease, gentlemen."

"Commander!" Lieutenant Alenko was sitting in the copilot's chair and twisted in his seat to give her a crisp salute.

"Jesus, Commander, you scared the shit out of me," Joker muttered, rubbing at his forehead underneath the brim of his cap, "You know, if I twitch the controls we could end up splattered all over space!"

"No we won't," Shepard said, "Now, shouldn't you be in your pod, Lieutenant?"

Alenko sighed, "Migraine, ma'am, with my implant, I can't sleep. What about you, ma'am?"

Shepard twitched one shoulder. "I'm in the same boat, Alenko."

"You sound like a biotic, but you don't even get the biotic powers," Kaidan flashed her a wide smile, "That sucks, Commander."

"Don't worry about it," Shepard replied. "Just so long as your sharp when we make our insertion, Lieutenant."

"Aye, aye, ma'am!"

_Warn them._ Shepard's skull throbbed. The bone was contracting like cooling metal. Shepard tried to think of something inspirational and reassuring and came up with nothing. Alenko was right, they were in dangerous territory. They needed to scoop up the good doctor and get out of the system before attracting any unwanted attention. Once Shepard could get a read on the information contained inside the Beacon, she could get one step ahead of Saren. That was only if Liara T'Soni cooperated. If she was working with her mother, well, one way or the other, Liara T'Soni was the key. _Yes._

"Uh, you okay Commander?" Joker muttered as he glanced up from his console.

"Yes, Joker. I'm fine." Shepard bared her teeth, "Ready for some fancy flying, Lieutenant? We grab the girl and we get gone, in and out. Let the brass worry about the rest."

"That's my kind of mission!" Joker whooped. "I'm ready, Commander."

"Yes, ma'am," Kaiden gave her a relieved smile.

"Good. I'll see you at 2100." Shepard inclined her head and turned on her heel, giving the two men the privacy to voice their fears and share in the small measure of courage available to a man staring out into the darkness of space. Shepard was the captain, alone, and she had no one to share her fears.

Pensive, Shepard rode the elevator to engineering. The doors slid open and revealed the darkened corridor, the cool blue metal glowing faintly in the dim lights. Shepard cocked her head and detected a faint clanging. She stalked down the passageway. Dim lights lined the floor and ceiling. She paused at the entrance to the hold; through the open doors she could see Tali'Zorah and Garrus Vakarian. The former law enforcement officer was standing at the workbench next to the armory cage in a puddle of white light and the quarian engineer sat on the metal table with her long legs crossed and one hand curled around the edge of the counter for support. Vakarian raised a rifle and Tali'Zorah handed him the next component; Garrus sighted down the barrel and Tali'Zorah laughed. Shepard's lips tightened, despite herself. Shaking her head, the commander prowled across the cargo bay and approached the new recruits.

"…So I said to him, Zaron, for the first time in your cowardly life, you're right. I am done."

"You didn't!" Tali'Zorah clasped her hands and her speaker flashed with pink light.

"I did," Garrus' mandibles flickered and he buzzed with laughter, "Then I just walked away."

"Ha! I can't believe it!" Tali'Zorah said, "That must be felt nice, Garrus."

"Yeah," Garrus replied with a smile as he removed the combat sensor from his rifle, "For the first time I'm free from the ridiculous bureaucratic restraints, the paperwork, all of the red tape. Doing something that matters, you know?"

Shepard stamped one boot on the deck on her next step, alerting the two to her presence. She came to a stop and clasped her arms.

"Shepard!" Vakarian said with a smile, shouldering his unlimbered rifle, "What brings you down here?"

"You don't want to know," Shepard said. "Everything alright with you?"

"Yes, we do!" Tali'Zorah replied, "Seriously, Shepard, is something wrong?"

Shepard paused, and then rolled one shoulder, "It's nothing. The sooner we get our hands on Liara T'Soni, the better. I need you both sharp—you two should get some sleep before we hit the Knossos System."

"I can't," Tali'Zorah murmured. "Your ship is so…quiet, Shepard! I can't feel anything, it's so strange!"

"If you need sleeping pills see Doctor Chakwas," Shepard said, "She'll have them for each of you."

"I…" Tali'Zorah hesitated, "I will if I need them. Thanks. Shepard."

"Well I'm fine, Commander, I just needed a new rifle," Vakarian grinned. "Lieutenant Alenko gave me permission to modify this stock rifle."

Shepard held out her hands and Garrus handed her the rifle. She turned it over in her hands and checked that the clip was empty and the indicators were orange, "Avenger Mark II DMR," Shepard murmurd, "You need something better than this, Vakarian. Alenko's your requisitions officer. If you need anything, just ask. If he thinks it's serious he'll punt it upstairs to me."

The Avenger Designated Marksman Rifle was the standard-issue rifle for a Marine Corps designated marksman, but it wasn't the top-of-the-line rifle for an experienced sniper.

"I'd prefer an Armax Punisher," Garrus said with a shrug, "But I don't want to trouble you—"

"Done," Shepard said, handing him the rifle, "Just let the lieutenant know. Next time we dock, it's yours."

Garrus grinned, his mandibles relaxed, "Thanks, Commander. This is what I'm talking about! We get what we need, we get the job done, we take Saren down."

"We get the job done right, not fast," Shepard cautioned.

"Absolutely, Commander," Garrus gave her a cocky salute, "I'm looking forward to it."

Shepard nodded and glanced at Tali'Zorah; the young woman had crossed her ankles, her helmet tilted to one side and her hands clasped around the curved edge of the counter. The tinted glass told her nothing, but Shepard suspected that Tali'Zorah was smiling. Shepard rubbed at her right brow, "You both…settling in aboard ship?"

"Yes," Tali'Zorah chirped, "Adams assigned me a position in your engineering bay, I can't believe it!"

"I know," Shepard said, Despite the trembling pain in her skull, Shepard found herself smiling slightly. "Good for you."

"It's not very important, and I can only work on secondary systems, but your ship is fantastic!" Tali'Zorah laughed, "Adams wants to keep me under supervision, so I can't work in engineering when he's not on duty—otherwise I would be there all the time, trust me."

"You're a damn prodigy, Tali'Zorah," Garrus said admiringly, "Shepard, we're lucky to have her on the mission."

Tali'Zorah put both hands to her mouth, her eyes luminous orbs. "I am not a prodigy, Garrus! I'm not, really."

"You are," Shepard flashed her a quick smile, "Don't sell yourself short, kid."

Tali'Zorah sputtered, the inside of her helmet gleaming, unable to respond. Garrus buzzed with laughter and slapped his armored thigh. Shepard spared them both a brief smile, "Alright, stop torturing the girl. What about you, Vakarian?"

Garrus chuckled, "Right, well, Lieutenant Alenko hasn't given me the activation codes to the Makos just yet but give me time," Garrus winked at her, "He doesn't take himself too seriously, unlike most of the decurions I've served with, Commander. Your team is…ah…funny? Is that the right way of putting it?."

"They _think_ they're funny," Shepard gave him a lupine smile, "Nothing you and the lieutenant can't handle."

"Alenko can fry us with that big brain of his, so that does give him an advantage," Garrus flicked his mandibles.

Shepard laughed and then pressed one palm to the side of her head a flash of pain rippled up her neck and into her temples. "Shepard?" Tali'Zorah whispered.

"I'm fine! I appreciate the concern." Shepard muttered, "You two get some sleep, that's an order."

"Yes, ma'am," Garrus said.

"I suppose," Tali slid off the bench and adjusted the utility straps of her enviro-suit. "You too, Commander?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Shepard cracked a pained smile and turned on her heel.

Her body was rigid with pain and her head was pounding as Commander Shepard rode the elevator to the habitation deck. The voice screamed and scratched at the inside of her skull. _Just wait, I'm trying! I just need Doctor T'Soni and maybe, just maybe, I can understand the visions. I can do this. _

The SSV Normandy shimmered with crimson light as they continued to decelerate towards Therum.

* * *

**Therum, Knossos System, Artemis Tau**

**2183.07.17**

The floodlights died with a whine and the cavern was plunged into darkness. The communicator was silent. Everyone else was dead. They were coming. Liara T'Soni closed her eyes. _Goddess, hear my prayer. Watch over us in our time of need._ Fear churned in her belly. She had seen them in the tunnels. The geth were coming.

It had seemed impossible, at first; Liara had heard about the attack on Eden Prime, but no one had suspected that the isolated mining colony of Therum would be the next target. The miners were armed and willing to fight against pirates, corporate raiders, and slavers, but they were no match for a synthetic army. Fearful and nervous, the excavation team had followed emergency protocol and headed towards a rendezvous point in the access tunnel near the surface. The access tunnel was reinforced, unlike the archaeological excavation, and no one wanted to be buried alive if the mine was struck with an orbital bombardment. Liara had trailed her companions, reluctant to leave her work so soon after they had finally accessed the relic, but Chief Engineer Saengchan had convinced her to return to the access tunnel. Liara and Saengchan had taken up the rear of their party of engineers and miners when they had ascended the elevator to the surface.

Liara's reluctance had saved her life. When the elevator had arrived at its final destination, they had been waiting. The gleaming optical sensors had swiveled in unison to face the frozen humans, telescopic necks swaying from side to side like serpents. Liara had been paralyzed with shock until the synthetics had shrieked, an unholy rattle of binary. Instinctively, she had thrown up her hands and summoned a shimmering biotic barrier.

The firefight had been brief and one-sided, and it was only the press of bodies that had saved Liara's life as the synthetics had ripped through the excavation team. The chainsaw of rounds had cut the humans into pieces and spattered against her biotic barrier, rising and falling with a howl, and Liara had felt a scream rip out of her throat as the phasic rounds threatened to overload her barrier. Wounded, Saengchan had crawled through the severed remains of her friends, blood bubbling out of her threat, her shaking hand rising towards the elevator controls. A line of white fire had torn her in half even as her hand had fallen on the panel an the doors began to close. Liara had let out a sob and thrown out her hands, planting one boot on a puddle of blood and hurling a wave of blue fire at the geth. Electricity had snapped and crackled along her smooth skin and a bolt of energy had run through the element zero contained within her flesh, producing the familiar sensation of lightness and the vibration beneath her skin, inside her muscles and bones—and out into the tunnel. The synthetics had and the elevator plunged back into the depths.

In her youth, Liara had been trained by some of the best warriors in Citadel Space—huntresses with thousands of years of experience in the art and science of war. The asari had reached a point where assassination and kidnapping were considered highly inappropriate—if you were caught. In this age, the Matriarchs moved through anonymous agents that never knew their true employers. As the pureblood daughter of one of the most powerful Matriarchs in Citadel Space, Liara had been trained since childhood to protect herself against potential assassins. When she had left her estate and enrolled at university, her skills had been necessary to protect herself from bigoted rivals. When she had spited her mother and departed for the farthest archaeological dig in the galaxy, her ability to defend herself had been tested more than once, and one of the very first things that Liara had been taught was the importance of assessing your situation and knowing when flight was better than fight. In this case, flight was the only option, and Liara had descended deeper into the tunnels, alone and aching with horror and guilt, until she was trapped at the very bottom of the cavern.

Now, she was alone, and the geth were coming. The lights flickered and sparked as the emergency generator activated. _Goddess, accept the soul of Khwanrudi Saengchan…I'm sorry._ Liara opened her eyes and glanced up the shaft at the tangle of cables that headed towards the surface—stained with shadows like darkening blood. With a sorrowful prayer for the souls of the dead miners, Liara turned down the volume on her communicator and finished loading her hard-pack with supplies from the canteen tent. The temporary camp established at the rear of the cavern had bunks, generators, refrigerators, and storage lockers. Liara had loaded her hard-pack with sealed rations, power cells, and hydration packets.

It made no sense. Why had the geth landed troops at the excavation site as well as attacking the colony? With a thrill of horror, Liara wondered if the synthetics wanted something inside the ruin.

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

Liara froze and glanced towards the dark scaffolding. Goddess, she was out of time. Liara swung the pack onto her shoulders and ran towards the excavation shaft that led towards the ruin. A shrill wail echoed through the cavern and Liara flinched. She shot a look over her shoulder and saw a dozen synthetics descending the scaffolding. As she sprinted towards the tunnel, she summoned the biotic power of the asari and leaped into the shaft, landing with a crack of disturbed stone and a flare of blue light. The heat was intense now. The shaft was lined with composite panels and sealed with an airlock protected by plastic flaps. Liara ran into the airlock and waited for the airlock to cycle with the flutter of her panicked heart sending tremors down her crest, expecting the geth to storm the tunnel at any moment. She peered through the small window and saw thin lights swivel across the entrance to the shaft. "Goddess! Liara gasped.

She was running out of time. The airlock opened with a hiss and Liara tumbled into the other side. Draped with translucent plastic was a crate of primed mining explosives and fuel canisters Liara had lifted into the shaft. Looking over her shoulder, Liara seized the detonator just as the airlock exploded. She threw up her other hand and flecks of metal and fire rebounded from her barrier. Liara let out a hoarse cry and pushed with both hands, sending a platoon of synthetics back up the shaft. Liara turned on her heel and ran, sprinting up the ramp even as one of the geth returned fire with a stream of rounds chewing through the panels behind her. Rebounding off the far wall, Liara took the corner using a biotic push and fell through the ruined base of the structure, landing on her back with a grunt of pain. The geth shrieked behind her, and Liara shook her head, dazed, "You go…no further…whoever…sent you!"

Forming a barrier around herself, Liara activated the detonator.

With a savage roar, a blast of heat and air emerged from the tunnel like the wrath of Athame. With a scream, Liara was thrown into the air and smashed into the ceiling before dropping to the floor as flames licked her shields. The stone heaved and shook and then collapsed with a boom. Liara scrambled to her feet as a groan echoed through the tiled corridor and the dim blue lights faded.

If the Unidentified Prothean Object lost power, Liara would lose the chance to tap the computers—all of that knowledge! Of course, the kinetic barriers would fail and the synthetics would flood inside. Dragging herself to her feet, Liara stumbled up the corridor into the central shaft. They had discovered that the underground base was a cylinder with a series of cells on the outer rim connected by a central shaft containing elevator platforms, and, now, the entire structure was shivering like a tree like an ancient tree struck with lightning. Liara rode the elevator to the next level and jumped into the tiled chamber. The far wall had an oval aperture protected by a kinetic barrier and Liara saw the geth standing on the other side of the shimmering shield. Their optical sensors turned towards her and she flinched. The synthetics opened fire on the edges of the barrier and white explosions spattered the barrier. Biting her lip, Liara ran towards the console, swerving around her equipment. The chamber was strewn with electromagnetic and optical effectors aimed at the two alien consoles, scanners, a mass spectrometer and gas chromatograph, computers, and a temporary workstation. _Please let the barrier hold!_

The underground cylinder shivered again and shifted, settling deeper into the earth on the collapsed tunnel beneath them. She could hear metallic clangs as scaffolding burst and feel and the pop of a distant explosion. The kinetic barriers hummed and a white line ran from the lip of the aperture towards the floor. Sparks fell towards the ground like rain as the synthetics continued to fire. With a desperate gasp, Liara flung herself towards the console and slapped her hands on the prothean computer. She had no other choice. The green hologram shimmered into life and her omni-tool overlaid a translation matrix of her own invention, but the majority of the text was unknown. The complex script represented sounds and, she suspected, pheromones and gestures that Liara was incapable of expressing. However, she just needed to identify the security system and restore power to the kinetic barriers. She tapped the console, sweat running down her neck.

The console shrieked in alarm and Liara was thrown into the air by a blast of green light. Caught off guard, Liara was smashed into the far wall and slid down the white tiles with a grunt of pain. Dazed, Liara stared as the underground base hummed like an angry insect and the shields flared brighter. The console died with a whine and a second barrier rose into place on the other side of the tiled cell. She was trapped inside the small room.

On the other side of the aperture the synthetics had scattered for cover. Liara struggled to breath, winded. When she recovered her breath she rose to her feet, trembling, and stared at the reinforced barrier that separated her from a sudden and violent death. The barrier was brighter and stronger than ever. Exhausted, Liara let her head fall against her chest. "Thank the Goddess…thank the Goddess…"

In the cavern outside, the geth were regrouping. In a sense, she had succeeded. The kinetic barriers were intact, she just couldn't leave or access the console. The synthetics were staring at her on the other side of the barrier and Liara felt a twinge of irritation. Ignoring them, Liara tapped her palm and activated her omni-tool, selecting the emergency frequency. "If…if anyone can hear this, I'm Doctor Liara T'Soni. I'm trapped inside the ruins and I can't…move. If you hear this, please, I need your help."

On the other side of the barrier, they were waiting in the darkness.


	16. Therum (Two)

**SSV Normandy, Knossos System, Artemis Tau**

**2183.07.18**

_T-0:00:59_

The digital counter clicked down and Commander Jane Shepard glanced at the holographic map floating at the heart of the Combat Information Center. The master plot revealed a projection of the Knossos System from the charts in the computer. "One minute and counting, Commander," Navigator Pressley said, rubbing one hand across his silver stubble with a resigned sigh.

Shepard flicked her eyes across the apathetic officer. He was convinced this mission was a waste of time—so was Second Lieutenant Germeen Barrett, the Tactical Action Officer, standing on the other side of the bridge. Both of them wanted to take the fight to the enemy and punish them for their unprecedented invasion—but Shepard needed information. "Thank you, Mister Presley, that will be all."

One minute. The voice inside her head was silent, waiting. Shepard grasped the railing around her command platform, smoothing her palm along the steel coated in pliant plastic. _Damn it. _The Beacon had infected her with something that waited in the darkness. Something that crackled with electricity. Doctor Chakwas had insisted on another battery of scans—despite Shepard's strenuous protests. The results? Nothing she didn't already know. Nightmares. Fever. Exhaustion. There was something in her blood, in her nervous system. Her brain was firing on all cylinders, and it was eating her alive. Chakwas was out of options and Doctor T'Soni was her only hope.

For the first time in years, Shepard had fabricated some cosmetics from the PX, the shipboard naval store, and concealed the faded bruises and dark circles beneath her eyes and from the bright lights on the bridge. _Stay focused_, Shepard told herself, _You're in the big chair now, marine. They're all counting on you to keep them alive. Captain Anderson is counting you._ They had worked together for a year on Project Normandy, now, it was her job to see it through.

The SSV Normandy would enter the Knossos System on the opposite side of the sun from Therum within the orbital period of Archanes. They would activate the Internal Emissions Sink and scan the system before swinging around Armeni towards Therum. Commander Presley had identified Armeni as the safest location to discharge their drive core—while they were forbidden from landing on the mortuary world, home to countless tombs of an extinct species, military exigency allowed them to pass through the planet's atmosphere. Spectre authority had it's perks.

Shepard had worked out a series of potential scenarios with Commander Presley, Joker, and Lieutenant Barrett. While they all expected a simple operation to locate and retrieve a single target, Shepard hadn't survived ten years in the field without anticipating the worst. The ship was armed and ready. Taking a deep breath, Shepard activated her communicator. "How is she, Lieutenant Moreau?"

"We are ready, willing, and able, Commander!" Joker replied.

"You know what to do," Shepard said.

"Aye, aye, Commander!"

She deactivated the feed and switched to the main circuit. The digital clock floating above her central screen ticked down. "All hands, this is the captain, prepare for deceleration on my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark."

The reactor screamed as the SSV Normandy conducted a military deceleration: the engines flared and the ship decreased the energy flowing to the mass effect field, increasing in mass and reducing velocity at the same time. The Normandy shuddered as structural integrity was pushed to the limit. The ship started pumping waste heat from the drive into the lithium blocks hidden inside the hull.

"Velocity _cee_-one mark zero and dropping, we are updated the plot, Commander," Navigator Pressley announced.

The ship had lowered their velocity to the point where passive laser detection could propagate and return to the vessel, revealing the space around them for the first time since they accelerated to faster than the speed of light. This was it. Shepard clutched at the railing with both hands as the CIC updated the master plot. Her eyes widened. _We're too late!_ Shepard slapped her hand on the control panel. "Helm, evasive action pattern three! All hands, general quarters!"

"Those damn bastards," Navigator Pressley swore. "Ma'am—"

"I know," Shepard said, "We're too late."

The geth had already arrived.

The Normandy slewed upwards from the ecliptic, the mass effect generator straining to compensate for the abrupt change in course. The crew updated the holographic display, revealing death and destruction surrounding Armeni: expanding fields of debris from the shattered communications satellites and quarantine buoys. Deeper in the system were blooms of heat and clouds of radioactive gases from shattered civilian ships. Spent kinetic weapons were spinning through the void.

They had lost. _L__iara T'Soni is probably dead or captured—or in alliance with her mother—and our best chance at deciphering the Beacon._ The voice was scratching at the inside of her skull like a trapped animal and Jane gritted her teeth. No! It's not over. There was something calling out to her from across the stars. She could hear the distant cry tingling on her skin. Her eyes were drawn to the projection of Therum. Something was there. Shepard's ears were ringing. Shepard raised one hand to her face, _Shut up!_

"Barrett!" Shepard snapped, "Give me a picture!"

"Working on it, ma'am! We have bogeys," Lieutenant Barrett said, "But we need more information about the enemy before we can proceed. I recommend a tactical withdrawal. We don't know anything about the geth—"

"Tali'Zorah gave us enough data for a preliminary identification," Shepard snapped, "Use it, Lieutenant."

"Yes—ma'am."

Shepard leaned over the holographic display. "Mister Pressley, plot us a new course to Therum," Shepard said and tapped her computer, "Adams, redline the reactor. We're heading straight for Therum at maximum effective velocity. You can discharge the core when we're leaving the system."

Shepard cut the link as Lieutenant Commander Pressley opened a private channel and murmured in her earpiece, "With all due respect, Commander, we have to discharge our mass effect field, otherwise the static electricity will—"

Shepard didn't raise her eyes from the holographic display. "That's enough, Mister Pressley. We have time. It's a risk we have to take."

Pressley swallowed. "Yes, ma'am."

"Dispatch a communications drone. Let the Alliance know we're having a party."

Pressley started uploading their signals intelligence and status to an automated probe. Without the communications buoys their message would take days to reach the nearest relay. For now, they were on their own.

"Helm," Shepard said. "We're going to do a suborbital insertion over Therum, just like Eden Prime. Are you ready for some fancy flying?"

Joker whooped, "This is how we do it, baby!"

"That's what I like to hear, Lieutenant. We have a new course. Adjust your heading."

Shepard allowed herself a thin smile as she terminated the feed. Her smiled faded. Something is there. Something is calling. Shaking her head, Shepard tripped the main circuit, "All hands, this is the captain. The geth have begun their assault on Therum. We will not let them succeed. This is the best ship in the Alliance Navy. This is the best crew in the Alliance Navy. Captain Anderson picked each and every one of us for this mission. This is our chance to make him proud."

_T+1:00:01_

"Move those machines, people! Ten minutes until the drop!" Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams roared, "Check suits and weapons!"

Garrus Vakarian glanced up from his locker and saw the Normandy Marines scrambling as the M-35 Makos were rolled back from the launch bay. Chief Williams waved her arm, hustling her soldiers towards the rear of the cargo hold. The marines' makeshift camp had been stowed in storage containers and the hold was empty in anticipation of potential decompression. A technician in helmet and ear protectors was waving the vehicles backwards with glowing batons; the six-wheeled monsters roared up the ramp with small bursts of blue light from the thrusters.

Garrus Vakarian flicked his mandibles nervously and slammed the locker door on his own meager belongings, "This is it. We need to get moving, Tali."

"I know!" Tali'Zorah scowled, "I just need a few more minutes to make sure that the program is working…"

Tali'Zorah was crouched over the worktable with six small drones trailing orange cables to the engineer's computer. She had one hand on the speaker assembly at the tip of her visor as she peered at the screen.

"I'm sure it's fine," Garrus checked the settings on the small landing jet on the back of his armor—a cylindrical turbine and two thrusters for course adjustments, supported by twin canisters of element zero that could reduce their momentum. Garrus patted the young woman on the arm, "You've checked your code a thousand times, Tali."

"What if I missed something?" Tali'Zorah gasped, "They're counting on me, Garrus!"

Shepard had given Tali'Zorah all of the data from the geth on Eden Prime—intercepted communications and captured computers—and assigned the quarian to improve their jamming capability and electronic warfare systems. It was a daunting task that the young woman had embraced with impressive fervor.

"Tali, we're ready. Trust me."

Tali'Zorah groaned and closed her computer, resting both hands on the table, "I'm just…"

"Nervous?"

"Well, I've never done something like this!"

"Jump out of a moving starship towards an alien planet covered in lava?" Garrus sighed, "Don't worry, I _think_ they know what they're doing."

"That's not helpful, Garrus!" Tali'Zorah laughed as she loaded the drones into hardened containers and loaded them into her sealed pack. "Look...I'm not worried about them, Garrus. I'm worried about me. I know I can shoot, if it comes to that, but I'm not a soldier. I just don't want to get in anyone's way. I don't want to let her down."

"You won't, trust me, you're a genius!" Garrus smiled and took the young woman gently by the shoulders, "Shepard believes in you, Tali'Zorah."

Tali'Zorah swallowed, her speaker crackling faintly, "Right!"

"You!" Chief Williams roared. "Get your asses in gear or you'll be making the drop on your own!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Garrus grinned, "Come on, let's move."

The two of them joined Lieutenant Alenko and Chief Williams on the other side of the hold. The Normandy Marines wore composite-fiber armor, but while Williams had hardened plates attached to her suit, Alenko's armor was covered in small capacitors to discharge residual energy from his biotic field. Both of them had red and white bands painted on their right arm. They looked determined and, remarkably, calm. Garrus knew that they had seen one of their colonies burn and innocent people transformed into monsters—and it was going to get a lot worse. _Determined? No, unyielding._ Garrus grinned.

Lieutenant Alenko turned towards them as they approached. "Miss Zorah, remember, you're Alpha Six. You're riding with Shepard. Mister Vakarian, Bravo Six. You're stuck with me, sorry. Just remember your briefing and you'll be fine."

"Thanks, Lieutenant," Tali sighed, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Better safe than sorry, Tali'Zorah," Alenko flashed her a grin.

He clapped Williams on her shoulder and the Gunnery Chief turned towards them. She scowled, "Alpha Team takes the mineshaft while the Bravo Team lands outside the city. We check both locations for our target, Liara T'Soni. We don't know the status of the local detachment so we don't have any local support, _and_ we don't know whether or not T'Soni is on her own or what the hell she's doing down there. You're with the Marines—always assume the enemy has technological and numerical advantage! Our force multiplier is _this_!" Ashley tapped her head, "Fight smart! We go in quiet and we go in fast before she knows we're coming and calls mommy. You don't get in the way and you don't die! Got it?"

"Yes!" Tali'Zorah put her hands on the hips, "You've told us a dozen times!"

"This is life and death," Williams snarled, "I'll tell you a hundred times!"

Garrus nodded reluctantly—Williams was right. This was life or death, and Tali'Zorah, despite her skill and intelligence, lacked the training that could save her life in the field. "We understand, Chief," Garrus said reassuringly, "Thanks."

Williams grunted, gave him one sharp look, and then sighed and gestured towards the launch bay, "Come on!"

Garrus put a gentle hand on Tali's shoulder. "Listen to her, genius. She's just doing her job."

Tali'Zorah released a blast of static from her speaker. "Fine! Let's get this started."

Garrus followed the engineer around the rumbling M-35 Mako. Inside the vehicle, red lights illuminated a cramped chamber with sloping walls, and it was full of ammunition, heavy weapons, equipment, and emergency supplies. There was a magnetic catapult built into the deck that terminated at the launch ramp where small orange lights shone around the doors. The marines were waiting on the ramp.

The SSV Normandy shuddered and orange lights started flashing. The loading ramp shivered slightly as the engines thrummed in anticipation. Williams raised her gloved fingers, "That's it, people! Five minutes to contact!"

Garrus Vakarian swallowed. _Good luck, Shepard._

_T+1:00:10_

The SSV Normandy was silent running. The bridge was bathed in red light. The ship glided gently along the outer edge of the thermosphere towards their target on the other side of the curved horizon, shrouded in dim clouds. The Tantalus Drive generated a powerful gravitational field concentrated at the front of the ship, seizing the vessel and hurling them towards the enemy, silent and cold. Shepard's heart was pounding, now. This was the first time the Normandy would fire her main cannon in battle—this was their trial by fire. This was her trial by fire.

In full armor, Commander Shepard stood on the darkened bridge with her hands clasped behind her back, her right hand held by her left fist. The red lights bathed her pale face, floating above her dark armor like a crimson apparition. The planet was singing to her—a solitary voice pleading with the void. Shepard did her best to ignore the sensation that was drawing her towards the ruins south of the colony. She stared the holographic tank with her lips pressed together and a single vertical line pinched between her brows. The colony was surrounded by a cloud of debris and radiation, and the satellite network couldn't account for the reactor radiation and weapons damage. Shepard tightened her right hand into a fist, the actuators in her wrist humming like an angry insect. _That's the Crecy._

The SSV Crecy had been the picket assigned to the Knossos System. While the colony was a mining operation owned by Eldfell-Ashland Energy, the sheer magnitude of their find and the consequent boom in electronics manufacturing on Earth meant that the planet was defended by a squadron of fighters and the SSV Crecy, a Chalons-class frigate. The planet was defended no longer. Hundreds of people were dead, scattered across hard vacuum. There was nothing they could do except take the fight to the enemy.

Three combatants were in orbit around the planet and thermal imaging had detected a dozen smaller vessels hovering above Nova Yekaterinburg and the archaeological dig. Using the profile provided by Tali'Zorah, they had identified the smaller vessels as landing ships and the larger ships as cruisers, elongated vessels with a bank of antennae on the dorsal ridge. Intelligence speculated that they used guided munitions and larger versions of the pulse cannon found on ground units. They outweighed the Normandy by several thousand tons, but Shepard had one critical advantage—the Tantalus Drive. The Normandy had to launch one devastating strike or the engagement was over. The only problem was that Tali'Zorah didn't know whether or not the geth could detect the ship. Shepard had to do what she always did—weigh the odds and fix the game. But this time, she was the captain, and she was taking every last living soul aboard with her.

Commander Shepard, Navigator Pressly, and Lieutenant Barrett had predicted the destruction or immobilization of the SSV Morgarten and devised their plan accordingly. They were going to strike hard and fast; during the confusion, they would launch the marines in two waves. Under better circumstances they would use the M-35 Makos as landing craft, but given that the geth occupied the surface they couldn't risk losing the entire team in the air. Instead, they were going to deploy the landing team out of the launch bay—each soldier jumping into the upper atmosphere and activating their landing jets as close to the ground as possible.

The plan was timed to the second. The Normandy had to be in position to launch and obscure the landing team from the geth before breaking for orbit. Shepard scanned the darkened bridge. Navigator Pressley was calculating their final insertion into orbit; now that the ship was in danger his fighting spirit was roused. The dedicated officers were murmuring into their headpieces as they flooded the master plot with updated information. Their faces were pale, their eyes glowing with orange flames from holographic lenses. They were ready.

Shepard found her eyes drifting towards the deck, boring through the hull towards the planet below. Something down there was, something—the digital counter flickered and Shepard tore her eyes away from the deck. The Normandy crested the exosphere, the white heat tiles glittering in the pale sun. The three enemy cruisers were in orbit above the colony. Shepard's breath caught as she waited for the geth to respond—nothing. Joker tilted the nose towards the enemy. They were locked on. Shepard suppressed all of her doubts and pains, all of the alien music inside her mind.

"Fire."

The Normandy fired in under a second: the ship had locked on to the target with passive radar, Lieutenant Barrett had selected the payload, the spinal mass accelerator was loaded, and Shepard had granted fire authorization. In the cockpit, Gunnery Control Officer Jamin Bakari activated the firing computer and Joker eased his finger across the trigger. The spinal cannon howled as the kinetic impactor was decreased in mass, forced through the electromagnetic accelerator, and ejected from the ship at an unimaginable velocity. The kinetic lance struck the leading cruiser and cracked their barrier in an explosion of static electricity, impacting the hull in a fraction of an instant with the explosive force of a fusion bomb. A trail of hazy white fire hung in the air between the Normandy and her prey, residual heat from the thunderbolt of the heavens.

The Normandy rang with the recoil and Shepard rocked slightly as the force was mitigated by the mass effect dampeners embedded in the railing. "Adjust course and fire on Bogey Two!" Shepard said sharply.

The Normandy rotated gracefully with a burst of antiproton thruster, kicking their rear towards open space and adjusting their nose—the spinal cannon fired again and the ship quivered like a taut drum. Shepard grunted as her guts clenched. "Impact on Bogey One and Bogey Two," Barrett said, "But…Bogey Three is launching drones, Commander!"

On the screen, Shepard could see the first bullet tearing through Bogey One like the spirit of vengeance. The hull was smashed open and brief spurts of fire and sparks emerged from the shattered craft, living and dying in a single moment when they were exposed to vacuum. The second ship was reeling, nose spinning away from them with the force of their second strike. It was falling towards the planet, dead or dying. The third cruiser had activated their thrusters and was breaking for higher orbit even as a swarm of drones flooded out of multiple launch bays, tiny crimson fireflies that danced in the holographic projection in the CIC. Dozens of drones. Hundreds of drones.

"Holy mother of God," Pressley moaned, "Look at them!"

Shepard snarled, "Launch decoys, initiate active countermeasures! Miss Barrett, give me firing solution for the GARDIAN. We are fighting the _geth_, people, act like it!"

In that moment, with the ship suspended between destruction and retreat, the crew responding to her commands with frantic precision, Jane Shepard had a moment of doubt. Driven by the dreams that haunted her every waking moment, her desperate need for the asari scientist, Jane didn't know if she was making the right choice. _No._ She had to keep moving. Her eyes glowed as static electricity shivered down her neck—_Electricity!_ Shepard stabbed her communicator, "Mister Adams! Prepare to discharge the drive core in atmosphere!" Shepard was violating a dozen shipping laws and naval regulations in a single stroke, "On my mark, Mister Adams," Shepard switched channels, "Joker! We'll be discharging the drive core. Take us into atmosphere, I want us as close to those drones as possible—but stay under them!"

"You really know how to party, captain!" Joker laughed wildly, "Here we go!"

Shepard was good at one thing—fighting. She always went for the throat. The Normandy surged towards the atmosphere. They had precious seconds before Bogey Three brought their main guns to bear.

"GARDIAN is ready, Commander," Barrett reported with a nervous wipe across her brow, smearing frizzy hairs across her moist forehead.

"Hold fire. We want them close," Shepard said with a sharp smile; Shepard entered a new command into her console. "Barrett, give me a firing solution on Bogey Three. Spread of torpedoes in two salvos, one before we discharge the core and one afterwards."

"Ma'am…I…Yes ma'am!"

Shepard glanced towards her anxious officer, ignoring Pressley, who was sputtering madly on her left side. Barrett was a diminutive woman with brown hair, her pale face speckled and flushed. The woman's reserve had cracked under the immeasurable odds. She _had_ to keep moving. "_Now,_ Miss Barrett." Shepard flicked a haptic switch, "All hands, prepare for atmospheric combat!"

The Normandy dove towards the surface, smashing through the clouds, moisture sparkling on the kinetic barriers and evaporating in a wave of heat and steam. The swarm of geth dove towards them. The drones were shaped like undersized flying saucers with a single glaring eye and twin cannons mounted underneath the thruster. Chattering pulse cannons filled the air as Joker started to weave from side to side. Shepard put both hands on the rail and rode the Normandy into battle. Soaring strains of alien music flooded her mind and tendrils of alarm emanated from the Beacon. She needed to be down there. Blood trickled down her lip and she smeared it across her gauntlet. She needed—Shepard gritted her teeth, Not now! The ship rocked from side to side as the armored doors above the recessed discharge pylons slid back. "Fire salvo one!" Shepard said.

The Normandy released eight Javelin Mark 1 Disruptor Torpedoes from disposable racks slung under the hull. The torpedoes diverged and raced towards the swarm of drones, which opened fire. The torpedoes broke apart under the withering stream of fire. The Normandy brought up her nose and the thrusters shrieked as she rose towards the swarm. The shields shuddered. Indicators flashed. "We're ready, Commander!" Engineer Adams was hoarse, "On your mark!"

Shepard grinned. "Mark."

The Normandy exploded with fields of white lightning that arced towards the earth. The sky trembled as a cloud of fire erupted from the hull. The geth were caught in the field of lightning, dancing streamers of fire piercing them by the hundreds. The metallic planet had a strong electromagnetic field that glittered as the static electricity crackle towards the surface. Drones started to fall and Shepard closed her fist. "Activate GARDIAN! Take us up, Mister Moreau, and fire salvo two!"

The second round of torpedoes detached from the hull and flashed towards the cruiser, increasing in mass until they were an unstoppable avalanche of energy. The torpedoes ignored the crackling lightning and burst out of the cloud of drones and into orbit. The geth cruiser was adjusting its course when it detected incoming missiles and started firing infrared lasers, rolling to shield its main batteries. Shepard's eyes were glued to the screen as the first torpedo went down. The second staggered under a glancing blow, releasing a gout of steam, and then exploded—and then the remaining torpedoes closed on the cruiser in a fraction of a second. Waves of shimmering blue and red energy exploded in an unholy aurora of shifting gravitational forces. The spacetime occupied by the cruiser was rent apart even as the Normandy blasted through the few remaining drones, surrounded by a corona of lasers. The coruscating mass effect fields collapsed and the cruiser reeled from the massive holes in its underbelly. Bleeding scintillating clouds of fire and debris, the cruiser's engines groaned as it tried to retreat. Reactor containment failed and the geth broke apart in a surge of radiation, even as the Normandy knifed through the fading explosion and into upper orbit. "Bogey Three has been destroyed, Commander!" Barrett gasped. "We're...in the clear."

Pressley let out a ragged cheer, "Unbelievable, Commander! Jesus… I…unbelievable!"

"Thank you, Mister Pressley," Shepard said, she felt hot and blood was beading on her lip, "Fire at will, Miss Barrett, and give me a reading on the remaining bogeys. Mister Moreau, take us down and take a shot at those landing craft."

"Aye, aye, Commander! Woohoo!"

The Normandy surged back into life, rising up into the blackness of space, dancing on the edge of the atmosphere like a diver on the board, before plunging into the thin clouds with a scream. The GARDIAN continued to fire and the remaining drones retreated, diving towards the surface.

The battle had lasted just nine minutes. Shepard brushed her gloved fingers across her chin, smearing blood across her fingers. "Good work, everyone. Carry on."

Shepard releasing her grip from the rail and detached herself from the dais, grateful for the support of her armor—her legs were trembling. She descended to the deck and gestured towards Lieutenant Commander Pressley, "Transmit the data from our flight recorder, Mister Pressley—NHQ needs our tactical data."

"Right away, Commander!" Pressley said, "We showed them, yessir!"

"Thank you, Mister Pressley," Shepard said—her head was pounding, now, beating in time with the song from the planet below, "I'm heading for the launch bay. You have the ship, Commander." Shepard dropped her hand onto his shoulder as the older man sputtered in protest, "I'm a Marine. I'm a Spectre. I'll find the target. But this is your ship, Charles. Keep her safe and wait for my signal."

Pressley swallowed and saluted. "Well…Yes, ma'am. I will."

Shepard nodded. "You have the ship, Mister Pressley." Shepard jammed her helmet on her head and the seals tightened with a hum. Her speaker hissed. "I'm counting on you."

_T+1:00:19_

The Normandy VI released a muted buzz, "_Alert. All hands brace for recoil. Alert. All hands brace for recoil._" The ship fired the mass accelerator and the entire ship shook from prow to stern. Commander Shepard was jerked to one side, rebounded from the bulkhead in one swift movement, her breathing echoing inside her helmet, and sprinted into the cargo bay. Orange lights were rotating on the walls in the dim hold.

Shepard bounced between the two M-35 Makos, tightening the seals on her jetpack. Alpha Squad was ready at the end of the launch ramp. The marines had been divided into two lines: Alpha Squad was waiting for her on the right side of the launch bay (Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams, Private Laflamme, Private Fredricks, Tali'Zorah, and Corpsman Abishek Pakti) and Bravo Squad on the left (Lieutenant Alenko, Garrus Vakarian, Shay, Negulesco, Tucks, and Hsaio). Garrus Vakarian was riding tandem with Private Hsiao for his first jump, while Tali'Zorah, much to her discomfort, was jumping tandem with Chief Williams. Shepard had selected Tali'Zorah and Williams to keep an eye on her most inexperienced soldiers while she had detailed her most experienced soldiers to keep an eye on their lieutenant.

Shepard slowed to a walk and approached Lieutenant Alenko, who saluted. "Ma'am! We're ready."

The voice inside her mind whispered, desperate and irritating. She needed to follow the song. "Alenko—I'm reassigning you to the colony. I'll take the mineshaft. Transmit the updated intelligence package to your team"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"We'll take the first drop," Shepard's eyes flicked across her holographic display and selected a new channel. "Joker! Take us in!"

"Aye, aye, Commander! I've gotta warn you, we're getting strange readings down there, like, off the charts, just a few clicks away from the landing zone!"

The archaeological dig. Shepard put one hand on the side of her helmet as a needles of pain flickered across the inside of her skull. "Received. Take us in, Joker! Over and out."

Shepard swept hard eyes across the two lines of soldiers waiting in the darkness, swaying from side to side. "This is Alpha One. Sixty seconds until the first drop."

_T+1:00:20_

Tali'Zorah nar Rayya was close to panic. Her breathing was harsh and loud, her breath misting the front of his visor. Icons appeared on her display, flashing blue and green—atmospheric alarms. The diagnostic computer inside her suit detected distress and recommended a sedative. Tali deactivated the computer. She cradled her shotgun against her chest; the gun was attached to her midsection on a retractable cable and both her hands curled around the top of the barrel with the empty grip trembling against her upper arm. _You don't want to shoot anyone on the way down, Tali'Zorah, no you don't!_ She squirmed in the the tandem harness, cinched tight around her shoulders, waist, and thighs—she felt trapped against the immovable bulk of Gunnery Chief Williams. Williams was going to jump and Tali was going with her whether she liked it or not. A litany of potential disasters careened through her mind—atmospheric pressure, enemy fire, electrical failure!

Her pupils had dilated to absorb the dim light and the holographic display glowed on the reflective lens. She could see the interior of the launch bay clearly—one line of soldiers behind her facing the launch door, on her right, the second team of soldiers swayed as the ship jerked and thrummed. Tali'Zorah could feel the hull straining against the atmosphere and the hum of the engines radiating through her sensitive toes. She could feel the stamp and shuffle of the Normandy Marines. The heady vibration in the deck caused her heart to flutter like a turbine.

Tali'Zorah closed her eyes against the barrage of light and noise and fear. Then she heard measured footsteps—Shepard was making her way towards the front of the launch bay, clapping each of her soldiers on the shoulder. When she reached Garrus Vakarian, she put one hand on his forearm. Garrus was rubbing one talon across the rifle strapped to the angular prow of his armor. His crest was encased in a slender blue helmet, his face visible through a translucent visor. Shepard broadcast her transmission to the squad, "Not too late to head home, Vakarian."

Garrus buzzed with laughter. She could see his mandibles flutter, blue eyes glittering in the dim light from his targeting visor. "Never, Shepard. If you can jump out of a moving starship, so can I."

Shepard slapped Garrus' forearm with a bark of laughter and turned to Private Hsaio, "Private! You ready show this cop how a marine handles a rifle?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Hoorah!" The Commander gave her a savage smile and resumed her inspection, "Thirty seconds!"

The quarian moaned and closed her eyes, "Come on, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya! You can do this, you can—ah!" The Normandy rattled as it jumped over a pocket of turbulence. "Ancestors, it's just like antigravity training, it's just like antigravity training!"

One hand closed on her shoulder, unyielding. "Tali'Zorah?"

The quarian let out a gasp—Commander Shepard held her right shoulder above the silver plate, against the padding over her collarbone. The interior of the Commander's helmet was illuminated with white lights, turning her face into a funeral mask marred with scars from an inept mortician. "Sh-shepard!"

"Twenty seconds, Tali'Zorah. You can do this," Shepard said softly, and rapped the silver armor with her knuckles, "You're one of us, Bravo One."

"Yes' ma'am! I mean, yes…Shepard!"

The young woman found herself reassured, for some reason. In that moment, she knew she was going to survive. Tali'Zorah felt her heart lift like a ship floating on the solar wind.

_T+1:00:21_

Tali'Zorah straightened and Shepard restrained an unexpected smile and rubbed the young woman's shoulder once more. _She could do this—I need her brain on this mission._ That was all. Expressionless, Shepard released the quarian and turned to the irascible Gunnery Chief. "Good work, Williams. Keep her alive."

"I'll do my job, ma'am."

"I know you will, Williams. You're a Marine." The digital counter in her HUD was counting down towards the jump. "Ten seconds!"

Shepard had a tactical feed from the bridge hooked into her holographic display. The Normandy had destroyed three of the geth landing craft, but the remainder were hidden among the mountainous terrain and the thermal radiation from the molten slag. After this point, they were on their own.

Five seconds.

Joker took the ship towards the first landing zone, banking into a shallow turn. Thrusters Normandy dropped below the sound barrier and the sky cracked and boomed. The warning lights turned red and, with a hiss, the launch ramp was drawn into the hull. Three lines of light expanded into a wall of blinding white fury. Green light. Zero seconds.

"Go, go, go!"

Shepard started to run towards the light. The deck was vibrating beneath her boots. She leaped out of the ship and into the sky. Behind her, Tali'Zorah and Ashley Williams tumbled out of the launch bay. The young quarian was screaming—and then she was laughing, a panicked laugh that echoed on the communicator. Against her better judgment, Shepard started to smile as she folded her arms and shot towards the surface. The wind was howling as the Normandy tilted towards the upper atmosphere and a wave of heat and exhaust slammed into her, propelling her towards the ground. Her helmet was ringing. She felt drawn towards the surface by an impossible sense of familiarity—of overpowering need. Six thousand meters below them the surface was covered in clouds of steam and rivers of slag like molten veins. They had arrived on Therum.

* * *

**Codex: Council Races/Humanity and the Systems Alliance/Alliance Navy: Suborbital Assault**

_During an assault on an occupied planet, the Alliance Marine Corps will deploy out of the launch bay from landing craft or naval vessels at suborbital altitudes. Each soldier is equipped with a jetpack and eezoo cell that will reduce their mass and momentum. However, the Marines will not activate their landing jets until they are as close to the ground as possible to avoid interception by opposing forces. During the initial phase of their fall, paratroopers look like debris, meteorites, or wildlife. A successful suborbital jump requires intense discipline and courage. While the turians and asari both practice similar tactics in elite units, neither conduct mass drops on defended planets, and some consider the Alliance Marine Corps to be the best paratroopers in the galaxy._


End file.
